I 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

SANTA  BARBARA 

COLLEGE  OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

Mrs.   J.   R,   Sackrider 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.arcliive.org/details/angloamericanmemOOsmal 


ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

SECOND   SERIES 


ANGLO-AMERICAN 
MEMORIES 


SECOND   SERIES 


BY 

GEORGE  W.  SMALLEY,  M.A. 


"I  have  found  among  my  possessions  none  that  I  so  much  prize 
and  esteem  as  a  knowledge  of  the  actions  of  great  men." 

Machiavelli. —  The  Prince. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 
G;be  IRnicliccbockcr    ipress 

1912 


Printedin  England  by  Wiiliam  Brendan  and  Son,  Ltd.,  Plymouth 


460 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SAmA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRABT 


PREFACE 

TN  the  sentence  from  Machiavelli  quoted  on  the 
title-page  the  phrase  "  great  men  "  is  used  loosely, 
and  most  people  use  it  loosely.  Nature  is  not  so  lavish 
as  all  that.  If  she  gives  us  one  or  two  great  men  in  a 
century  let  us  be  thankful  for  the  one  or  two  and,  as 
to  the  rest,  discriminate.  To  be  a  great  orator  or  a 
great  politician  is  not  necessarily  to  be  a  great  man. 
But  the  quality  of  greatness  is  there  and  we  need  not 
demand  that  it  shall  be  so  complete  as  to  envelop  the 
man.  I  have  written  about  the  men  who  interest  me  in 
the  hope  that  what  I  say  of  them  may  interest  others. 

All  these  papers  are  the  work  of  the  last  year  or  two. 
They  are,  like  the  first  series,  strictly  what  I  have  called 
them.  Memories.  I  have  never  kept  a  journal  and 
seldom  taken  a  note.  If  it  should  occur  to  anybody 
that  other  personages  might  have  been  included  in  the 
first  series,  or  in  the  second,  I  may  say  that  in  earlier 
books  of  mine,  and  in  magazines,  and  still  more  in  The 
New  Tork  Tribune,  for  which  most  of  these  Memories 
were  originally  written,  many  other  names  will  be 
found  ;   and  there  may  be  more  hereafter. 

The  study  of  Mr.  Whitelaw  Reid  was  not  sent  to 
that  paper,  since,  although  on  accepting  the  London 
Embassy  he  ceased  to  be  its  Editor,  he  remained  chief 
proprietor.  The  chapters  now  republished  have  been 
revised  and  some  have  been  re-written  or  enlarged.  For 
my  opinions  and  indiscretions  I  only  am  responsible. 

G.  W.  S. 

London, /iz«//a;7,  191 2. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   I  PAGE 

Mr.  Chamberlain i 

CHAPTER   n 
The  Eighth  Duke  of  Devonshire       .         .  .22 

CHAPTER   in 

The  Late  Duchess  of  Devonshire      ....       37 

CHAPTER   IV 
Mr.  Balfour 45 

CHAPTER  V 
Sir    William     Harcourt — Domestic    and    Political 

Recollections 61 

CHAPTER   VI 
Lord   Rosebery — A   Personal  View   of   an   English 

Statesman 68 

CHAPTER  VII 
Field-Marshal  Viscount  Wolseley     ....       79 

CHAPTER   VIII 

Mr.  Winston  Churchill — The  Boy  and  the  Man     .       87 

CHAPTER   IX 
Sir     Edward    Grey — A    Personal    and    Diplomatic 

Impression 102 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   X 

Viscount    Haldane — War   Minister,    Metaphysician, 

Lawyer,  and  Socialistic  Radical  .         .         .112 


PAGE 


CHAPTER   XI 

Four  Speakers  of  the  House  of  Commons        .        .119 

CHAPTER   Xn 
The  Fifth  Earl  Spencer 134 

CHAPTER  Xni 
The   Late   Viscount   Goschen — A   Very    Individual 

Anglo-German  Englishman 149 

CHAPTER   XIV 
Mr.   Goldwin   Smith — Scholar,  Apostle,  Historian, 

Writer  of  English 156 

CHAPTER   XV 
Prince  Francis  of  Teck 163 

CHAPTER   XVI 
Lord  Pauncefote  as  Anglo-American  Ambassador    .     170 

CHAPTER  XVII 

The  Present  American  Ambassador,  Mr.  Whitelaw 

Reid 188 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

Two  Methods  of  Diplomacy— American  and  European     198 

CHAPTER   XIX 

The  American  Speaker,  Mr.  Thomas  B.  Reed  .         .     208 

CHAPTER   XX 
Mr.  Junius  S.  Morgan 2x5 


CONTENTS  ix 

CHAPTER   XXI  p^oE 

Mr.  Pierpont  Morgan 221 

CHAPTER   XXII 
Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie 241 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

Mr.  William  Waldorf  Astor  and  His  Experiences 

IN  England 261 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

Mr.  James  McNeill  Whistler — Anecdotes,  Estimates, 

Friendships 276 

CHAPTER   XXV 
Sir  William  Schwenck  Gilbert 289 

CHAPTER   XXVI 

Mlle.  Aim^e  Desclee — Her  Art,  Her  Letters,  Her 

Life 296 

CHAPTER   XXVII 
Sir  Henry  Irving 308 

CHAPTER  XXVIII 

Mme.  Sarah  Bernhardt  and  Sir  Henry  Irving        .     327 

CHAPTER   XXIX 
Mr.  Theodore  Roosevelt 339 

CHAPTER   XXX 
Count  Witte  and  What  He  Did  at  Portsmouth      .     383 


ANGLO-AMERICAN 
MEMORIES 


SECOND    SERIES 

CHAPTER  I 
MR.   CHAMBERLAIN 


TANDING  on  Dover  pier  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
■■■^  morning,  after  a  turbulent  voyage  from  Calais, 
I  met  Mr.  John  Morley  and  walked  with  him  along 
the  still  more  turbulent  railway  platform  to  his 
compartment.  He  told  me  Mr.  Chamberlain  was 
with  him  and  asked  me  to  come  in.  When  I  said 
I  did  not  know  Mr.  Chamberlain,  he  answered  it 
was  time  I  did,  and  introduced  me.  This  was  more 
than  thirty  years  ago,  and  so  began  my  acquaintance 
with  the  man  who  then  was  reckoned  the  foremost 
Radical  in  England.  We  talked  from  Dover  to  Lon- 
don, while  Mr.  Morley  slept.  During  those  two  hours 
his  Radicalism  was  aflame,  and  he  seemed  ready 
enough  to  declare  his  opinions  with  more  freedom 
than  most  Englishmen  use  to  a  new-comer.  Needless 
to  say  he  talked  with  picturesque  energy  ;  whether 
about  persons  or  politics  ;  and  ever  in  an  uncom- 
promising tone.     He  discoursed  among  other  things 


2  ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

on  Mr.  Forster's  Education  Act  of  1870,  which 
later  he  described  as  one  of  the  greatest  measures, 
or  perhaps  the  greatest,  Parliament  had  ever  passed. 
But  that  morning  he  was  in  no  mood  for  eulogy.  He 
was  in  his  finest  Nonconformist  temper  and  nowise 
disposed  to  make  light  of  Mr.  Forster's  compromises 
which  to  him  seemed,  taken  together,  a  surrender  to 
the  Church  of  England.  I  was  so  much  struck  with 
his  implacable  tone  that  I  asked  : 

"  Shall  you  never  forgive  Mr.  Forster  ?  " 

"  Never." 

Mr.  Chamberlain  did  not  then  foresee  that  he 
was  himself  to  undergo  changes  of  opinion  compared 
to  which  Mr.  Forster's  concessions  were  of  little 
moment.  All  the  more  precious  is  this  first  memory 
of  him  in  his  original  state  ;  which  I  imagine  he 
himself  might  call  unregenerate.  There  was  the 
real  Chamberlain  in  all  the  fervour  of  convictions 
that  admitted  then  of  no  doubt,  that  to  him  formed 
part  of  the  law  of  the  Universe.  The  Chamberlains 
who  have  succeeded  to  this  one  have  been  just  as 
real,  just  as  sincere,  and  each  one,  I  suppose,  just  as 
sure  of  the  permanence  of  the  beliefs  of  each. 

Often  taunted  with  versatility,  his  old  speeches 
often  quoted  against  him,  he  has  answered  with 
unshaken  composure  that  mere  consistency  is  no 
part  of  a  Minister's  outfit.  Opinions  change  because 
circumstances  change.  An  open  mind,  an  essential 
sincerity  of  character,  a  clear  view  of  what  at  the 
moment  the  public  good  requires  of  a  public  servant — 
those  are  the  qualities  a  useful  Minister  must  possess. 

Even  his  enemies,  perhaps  even  the  Irish  Home 
Rulers  whom  he  overcame,  do  not  deny  to  him  these 
traits.  As  I  think  of  the  attacks  on  him,  surpassing 
in  bitterness  those  on   any  other   man  of  his   time, 


MR.    CHAMBERLAIN  3 

I  think  also  of  what  an  American  said  of  President 
Cleveland  : 

"  I  love  him  for  the  enemies  he  has  made." 

And  so,  in  the  heat  of  conflict,  and  by  influences 
stronger  than  individual  opinions,  and  ever  in  stress 
and  storm,  was  slowly  fashioned  the  Chamberlain 
whom  all  men  at  last  recognized  as  one  of  the  great 
forces  of  English  Conservatism  and  English  life. 

Perhaps  the  rarest  of  all  political  products  in 
these  British  Isles  is  the  man  of  ideas.  Rarer  still 
is  the  man  who,  having  ideas,  has  also  the  gift  of 
political  leadership,  which  includes  political  courage. 
Mr.  Chamberlain  is  that  man,  and  that  is  why, 
five  years  after  illness  had  driven  him  from  public 
life,  England  celebrates  his  seventy-fifth  birthday 
with  as  much  heartiness  as  if  he  were  still,  where 
for  thirty  years  he  had  ever  been,  in  the  forefront 
of  battle.  There  he  will  never  be  again.  His  mind 
has  still  much  of  its  old  vigour,  but  paralysis,  or 
something  like  it,  bereft  him  of  his  physical  strength, 
and  left  him,  though  not  speechless,  wholly  incapable 
of  addressing  either  the  House  of  Commons  or  a 
public  meeting.  He  writes  now  and  then  a  letter 
to  a  Unionist  candidate  for  Parliament  or  a  brief 
epistle  on  some  pressing  topic  ;  lucid,  effective, 
because  they  are  his,  but  never  quite  in  the  old  tone. 
So  far  as  fresh  effort  is  concerned,  he  is  a  spent  force, 
but  the  influence  of  his  name  and  of  his  life-work 
will  never  be  spent. 

Napoleon  was  wont  to  call  men  who  mixed  theory 
with  practice  ideologues.  He  hated  them  ;  and  he 
also  despised  them,  since,  in  his  view,  their  habit 
of  speculation  impaired  their  power  of  will  and  of 
work.  He  might  have  hated  Mr.  Chamberlain. 
He   would    never   have    despised   him.      Seldom,    if 


4  ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

ever,  has  there  been  an  Englishman  whose  power 
of  will  and  of  work  was  greater  than  his.  If  you  look 
at  Lawrence's  portrait  of  the  younger  Pitt,  you  will 
see  the  features  of  Mr.  Chamberlain,  and  you  may 
well  suppose  that  this  statesman  of  the  nineteenth 
century  could  have  carried  on  Pitt's  twenty  years' 
struggle  with  Napoleon,  and  freed  Europe.  Pitt 
died  an  old  man  at  forty-six,  worn  out.  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain lasted  till  seventy. 

Mr.  Gladstone  excepted,  I  have  known  no  English- 
man who  gave  you  such  an  impression  of  concentrated 
energy  as  Mr.  Chamberlain.  Whether  he  talked  to 
you,  whether  he  talked  to  a  crowded  House  of  Com- 
mons, whether  he  talked  to  six  thousand  people  in 
Birmingham  Town  Hall,  whether  he  sat  silent,  the 
impression  was  the  same.  Into  that  slender,  sinewy 
frame  of  no  great  height  his  Maker  had  packed  the 
essential  energies  of  a  great  race.  I  have  met  him 
in  all  sorts  of  circumstances  ;  never  once  when  his 
was  not  the  dominant  personality  of  the  scene. 
I  can  think  of  nobody  in  recent  times  to  compare 
him  with  except  the  late  Prime  Minister  of  France, 
M.  Clemenceau.  They  had  this  in  common,  that 
each  married  an  American  wife,  and  among  all  the 
gifts  the  gods  have  bestowed  on  the  Englishman, 
his  American  wife  is  one  of  the  most  precious.  But 
the  great  Frenchman  is  so  little  known  to  Americans 
that  the  comparison  would  be  futile.  Nor  is  any 
comparison  of  much  use  except  as  an  illustration  of 
particular  traits.  Nor  will  any  description  of  Mr. 
Chamberlain  avail  unless  you  have  seen  and  heard 
the  man  himself,  and  then  it  is  superfluous. 

But  look  at  him  on  the  platform  at  Birmingham, 
among  his  own  people,  in  the  arena  where  some  of 
his  most  splendid  triumphs  have  been  won.     As  he 


MR.    CHAMBERLAIN  5 

comes  forward  a  roar  of  welcome  greets  him.  You 
see  that  he  and  his  fellow-townsmen  are  on  affectionate 
terms.  They  know  what  they  owe  him.  They  re- 
member that  long  before  he  served  England  he  served 
Birmingham  ;  was  thrice  Mayor  of  that  great  city, 
and  made  it  an  example  to  every  municipality  in 
Great  Britain.  A  business  man,  first  of  all ;  an  ad- 
ministrator, an  organizer.  He  begins  his  speech  in  a 
business  tone.  His  attack  is  instantaneous.  Almost 
with  his  first  sentence  he  is  in  the  heart  of  his  subject. 
No  generalities,  no  rhetoric,  not  a  word  of  appeal  to 
his  audience  ;  no  preface,  no  exordium.  As  if  by 
instinct,  he  goes  straight  to  the  matter  in  hand.  His 
voice  rings  clear  and  there  is  in  it  the  unmistakable 
accent  of  sincerity.  He  knows  Birmingham  like  an 
old  glove,  and  the  men  of  Birmingham  as  old  friends. 
In  the  phrasing  of  his  sentences  there  is  a  touch  of 
intimacy  almost  conversational.  Try  to  converse 
with  six  thousand  people,  and  see  if  you  find  it 
easy. 

In  point  of  fact,  this  air  of  artlessness  is  calculated. 
He  knows  all  that  can  be  known  about  the  art  of 
public  speaking.  He  knows  what  sentences  will 
carry,  to  use  the  stage  term,  and  what  will  not. 
Profoundly  in  earnest,  still  he  is  an  actor  ;  and  a 
most  accomplished  actor.  You  cannot  be  a  great 
actor  unless  you  have  the  dramatic  gift.  Mr.  Glad- 
stone had  it,  but  in  him  it  was  almost  too  visible.  Mr. 
Bright  had  it,  but  his  art  was  reduced  to  its  final 
expression  of  complete  simplicity,  and  no  one  who 
listened  to  him  suspected  the  art.  He  spoke  as  the 
messenger  of  the  Almighty.  To  those  heights  Mr. 
Chamberlain  did  not  often  reach,  nor  did  he 
make,  as  Mr.  Bright  did,  a  supremely  imaginative 
use  of  his    material.      Mr.    Bright   had   tones   in  his 


6  ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

voice  which  were  the  tones  of  an  organ.  Mr. 
Chamberlain  had  not.  He  was  far  too  wise  and 
far  too  individual  to  attempt  to  rival,  still  less  to 
imitate,  Mr.  Bright  or  anybody  else.  Mr.  Bright 
was  emotional ;  Mr.  Chamberlain  never.  One  thing 
they  had  in  common  :  a  profound  sympathy  with  the 
people  ;  as  Lincoln  had  ;  and  a  command  of  the  words 
by  which  sympathy  of  that  kind  declared  itself ; 
in  each  of  the  three  differently,  and  in  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain without  your  perceiving  that  the  view  he  pre- 
sented to  you  was  anything  but  intellectual. 

So  close  was  the  tie  between  him  and  his  Birming- 
ham audience,  that  you  felt  as  if  you  were  intruding 
on  a  family  party.  It  was  a  great  political  occasion, 
but  it  was  domestic  ;  a  Round  Table  about  which 
all  the  Six  Thousand  were  sitting.  It  was  a  Con- 
ference. You  wondered  how  it  was  possible  for  that 
keen-faced  figure  on  the  platform  to  get  into  these 
obviously  confidential  relations  with  all  these  gun- 
makers  and  ironmongers  of  this  Midland  city  which 
turns  out  hardware  for  all  the  world,  the  United 
States  excepted.  But  he  himself  is  of  steel ;  elastic, 
polished,  tempered  as  a  sword  is  tempered,  with  an 
edge  not  less  trenchant.  He  wields  a  shining  blade 
which  no  armour  can  turn,  as  his  enemies  have  found 
out.  He  delivers  his  thrust  quietly  enough,  imper- 
turbably,  without  malice  and  without  mercy.  In 
his  face  there  is  no  sign  of  the  fierce  delight  you  see 
in  the  faces  of  those  for  whose  pleasure  he  impales 
their  common  enemy.  His  attitude  is  scientific. 
These  processes  of  vivisection  are  not  primarily  to 
give  pain,  but  to  increase  knowledge. 

In  portraits  and  caricatures  you  see  him  always 
with  an  eyeglass  and  an  orchid.  The  straw  which 
Punch   put   into   Palmerston's   mouth,   and   the  legs 


MR.    CHAMBERLAIN  7 

of  Lord  John  Russell  on  the  Front  Bench,  too  short 
to  reach  the  floor,  were  alike  efforts  o£  the  imagination. 
Mr.  Chamberlain's  single  eyeglass  and  orchid  are  real. 
You  never  see  him  without  both,  and  you  never  notice 
either.  What  you  see  is  a  man.  He  does  not  strike 
you  as  big,  nor  yet  as  little.  He  is  just  a  man  :  and 
a  man  tremendously  alive.  The  measurement  you 
take  of  him  is  not  an  outward  measurement.  What 
you  would  like  to  measure,  and  cannot,  is  the  man's 
soul.  Your  unconscious  effort  is  to  give  to  yourself 
an  account  of  the  nature  of  this  extraordinary  being, 
and  of  the  contents  of  the  skull,  which  is  of  no  ex- 
traordinary size.  When  Gambetta  died  they  weighed 
his  brain,  and  found  the  weight  of  it  under  the  average, 
not  much  more  than  forty-two  ounces.  The  doctors 
were  astonished.  They  had  expected  the  weight  of 
the  brain  to  answer  to  the  weight  of  character,  and 
to  the  capacity  of  a  mind  which  had  at  that  time  in 
France  no  second.  Then  they  reflected  that  it  was 
just  as  easy  to  explain  his  superiority  by  quality  as 
by  quantity,  and  were  content.  I  imagine  it  is  so 
with  Mr.  Chamberlain.  The  osseous  structure  is 
not  ample  enough  for  an  unusual  mass  of  brain  ; 
but  the  thinking  power  is  there,  and  the  will  power  ; 
or,  if  not  there,  hidden  away  somewhere  in  the  man, 
and  the  two  together  have  been  enough  to  enable 
him  to  work  fifteen  hours  a  day,  full  steam  ahead. 
If  he  had  not  also  smoked  fifteen  cigars  a  day,  I  might 
not  have  to  use  the  past  tense  now  in  writing  of  his 
place  in  the  life  of  England. 

As  his  speech  proceeds  you  become  aware  that  the 
power  of  it  proceeds  also  ;  grows  more  and  not  less 
with  this  prodigious  expenditure  of  mental  and 
physical  force.  It  is  a  crescendo  throughout.  You 
cannot  afford  to  relax  your  attention  for  an  instant. 


8  ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

There  is  no  marking  time.  If  he  thinks  on  his  legs, 
as  he  certainly  does,  the  thinking  never  hinders  the 
expression.  The  stream  flows  on  like  Matthew 
Arnold's  Oxus ;  brimming,  and  bright,  and  large.  To 
say  that  as  he  proceeds  he  does  not  lose  his  hold  on 
his  hearers  is  nothing.  He  rivets  their  attention  ; 
moment  by  moment  his  grip  tightens  ;  the  logic  is 
pitiless  ;  the  invective  more  pitiless  still ;  you  bend 
to  his  passion  ;  you  are  the  captive  to  an  unrelenting, 
argumentative  sequence. 

It  is  the  Chamberlain  I  first  saw  and  first  heard  in 
Birmingham  that  I  am  trying  not  to  describe,  but  to 
outline  ;  with  a  touch  o£  colour  if  I  could  manage  it. 
I  heard  him  later  in  St.  James's  Hall  in  London, 
and  elsewhere ;  a  fairer  test  because  his  London 
audience  was  under  no  such  spell  as  that  of  Birmingham 
and  stood  to  him  in  no  purely  personal  relation.  But 
the  effect,  or  my  memory  of  it,  is  much  the  same. 
A  test  more  searching  still  was  the  House  of  Commons, 
where  he  measured  himself  against  the  giants  of  those 
days. 

The  business  of  the  House  of  Commons  is,  or  once 
was,  debate  ;  it  was  in  the  days  of  Mr.  Disraeli  and 
of  Mr.  Gladstone  a  deliberative  assembly.  Neither 
of  those  great  leaders  feared  discussion  or  resorted 
to  the  systematic  use  of  gag  and  guillotine  to  carry 
their  Bills.  They  had  other  resources  ;  nor  had 
either  adopted  the  theory  of  Grenville,  the  author  of 
the  Stamp  Act,  or  of  Mr.  Asquith,  the  author  of  the 
Parliament  Act,  that  to  Parliament  the  whole  power 
of  the  people  had  been  delegated.  Neither  cared,  as 
Grenville  cared  and  Mr.  Asquith  now  cares,  to  see 
Parliament  despotic  over  the  nation.  Macaulay 
states  the  case  against  Grenville.  For  the  case  against 
Mr.  Asquith  you  have  but  to  read  his  own  speeches. 


MR.   CHAMBERLAIN  9 

Not  in  Disraeli  and  not  in  Gladstone  will  you  find  a 
trace  of  either. 

Mr.  Chamberlain  had  therefore  in  those  days  a 
free  course  to  run  and  he  glorified.  To-day  he  would 
be  closured.  He  could  be  silenced  if  he  could  not  be 
answered.  But  I  was  fortunate  enough  sometimes  to 
hear  him  in  a  great  debate,  when  the  great  men  stood 
up  to  each  other  in  fair  combat.  Perhaps  as  a  debater 
no  one  of  them  was  Mr.  Chamberlain's  superior.  In 
other  things  they  may  have  surpassed  him.  Mr. 
Gladstone  certainly  did  in  his  amazing  power  of 
creating  his  own  atmosphere  in  the  House  of  Commons; 
of  lifting  debate  to  a  level  it  never  otherwise  reached. 
But  debate  is  a  thing  by  itself  and  has  rules  of  its 
own  ;  as  a  contest  with  the  sword  has,  which  you 
neglect  at  your  peril.  In  such  a  contest  I  do  not 
know  that  either  of  the  two  was  more  than  a  match 
for  Mr.  Chamberlain. 


II 

It  seems  odd,  considering  all  that  has  happened,  to 
say  so,  but  Mr.  Chamberlain's  decisive  appearance  in 
public  life  was  due  to  his  political  alliance  with  the 
late  Sir  Charles  Dilke.  I  give  the  facts  as  they  were 
known  to  me  at  the  time,  from  Dilke  and  a  little 
from  his  friend  ;  for  the  relations  between  the  two 
were  not  political  only  ;  they  were  personal.  I  will 
say  here  once  for  all,  in  order  to  avoid  re-entering 
upon  a  subject  none  too  savoury — I  mean  Dilke's  own 
subsequent  history — that  Mr.  Chamberlain  stood  by 
Dilke  when  disaster  came  upon  him  ;  refused  to 
believe — or  to  admit — what  others  knew  to  be  true  ; 
refused  to  join  in  the  attacks  on  him  ;   defended  him 


lo        ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

d  tort  et  a  travers.  Whether  he  really  thought  Dilke 
innocent  I,  of  course,  do  not  know.  He  acted,  at  any 
rate,  upon  the  maxim  in  the  two  Hares'  Guesses  at 
Truths  a  book  once  current  and  still  not  wholly  for- 
gotten :  "  Friendship  closes  its  eye  rather  than  see 
the  moon  eclipst."  I  don't  say  it  critically.  I  say  it 
to  Mr.  Chamberlain's  honour.  His  steadfastness  to 
his  friend  was  part  of  the  steadfastness  of  his  character. 

When  Dilke  became  M.P.  for  Chelsea,  in  1868,  the 
alliance  between  him  and  Mr.  Chamberlain  had  already 
been  formed  ;  a  singularly  close  alliance.  By  1880, 
when  Mr.  Disraeli's  six  years'  reign  ended,  and  Mr. 
Gladstone,  mainly  by  help  of  the  ever  memorable 
Midlothian  campaigns  of  1879-80,  had  driven  his 
great  rival  from  power,  these  two  young  men  felt 
themselves  strong  enough  to  demand  office.  Dilke 
was  then  thirty-seven  and  Chamberlain  forty-four — 
mere  boys  as  age  is  commonly  reckoned  in  English 
public  life.  They  were  the  representatives  of  the 
New  Radicalism  inside  the  Liberal  Party  ;  a  force 
destined  to  portentous  growth,  as  anybody  may  see 
to-day ;  so  portentous,  so  pregnant  with  disaster  long 
before  to-day,  that  Mr.  Chamberlain  had  forsaken  it 
even  earlier  than  that  gloomy  winter  of  1885-86  when 
Mr.  Gladstone  took  his  fatal  plunge  into  the  dark 
waters  of  Home  Rule.  Even  while  he  was  yet  the  un- 
challenged leader  of  a  united,  or  comparatively  united, 
Liberal  Party,  Mr.  Gladstone  did  not  like  Radicalism 
or  Radicals,  But  it  was  his  business  as  party  chief  to 
weigh  the  forces  he  had  to  deal  with,  and  he  recog- 
nized the  claim  these  two  men  made  on  him,  and  sent 
for  Sir  Charles  Dilke  to  offer  him  a  post  in  the  Ministry 
he  was  forming,  though  not  in  the  Cabinet. 

The  story  is  told  in  different  ways  and  the  accounts, 
even  those  which  may  be  called  authoritative,  cannot 


MR.   CHAMBERLAIN  ii 

be  easily  reconciled.  Lord  Morley  tells  it,  in  his 
monumental  Life  of  Gladstone,  as  usual,  with  great 
reserve  ;  a  Life  of  which  frankness  is  not  the  pre- 
vailing note.  The  version  I  am  going  to  give  you  is 
Dilke's  version.  I  was  at  that  time  on  friendly,  and 
even  intimate,  terms  with  him  ;  and  saw  him  that 
afternoon  at  his  house  in  Sloane  Street.  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain was  present.  Dilke  had  just  come  from  Mr. 
Gladstone,  and  the  offer  of  that  subordinate  place  in 
the  Government  which  the  great  leader  thought 
adequate  to  Dilke's  party  claims  had  just  been  made. 
Without  either  accepting  or  declining  it,  he  told 
Mr.  Gladstone  that  he  and  Mr.  Chamberlain  were 
acting  together  ;  that  both  of  them  expected  office  ; 
and  that  for  one  of  them  a  place  must  be  found  in 
the  Cabinet. 

I  give  the  substance  and  intent  of  Dilke's  statement 
to  Mr.  Gladstone  ;  very  much  as  he  himself  gave  it 
to  me  ;  not  at  all,  I  imagine,  as  he  phrased  it  when  in 
presence  of  the  great  Liberal  whom  the  Queen  had 
asked,  sorely  against  her  will,  to  form  a  Ministry. 
Dilke's  brevity  of  speech  had,  at  times,  a  certain 
brutality,  but  it  cannot  be  that  he  allowed  himself 
this  curt  freedom  of  statement  to  Mr.  Gladstone 
himself.  Even  upon  Dilke,  who  respected  few  things, 
the  authority  of  this  wonderful  old  man  must  have 
made  itself  felt.  Few  were  they  who  did  not  acknow- 
ledge and  yield  to  it.  But  whatever  the  words  in 
which  Dilke  delivered  his  ultimatum,  Mr.  Gladstone 
listened  with  his  usual  grave  courtesy,  and  this  was  his 
answer  : 

"  Sir  Charles,  you  are  as  yet  inexperienced  in  public 
life,  and  I  think  it  a  duty  to  explain  to  you  that  when 
a  Prime  Minister  is  forming  a  Government  it  is  usual 
for  him  to  distribute  offices  in  accordance  with  his 


12         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

own  conception  of  public  duty.  Never  before  have  I 
known  a  case — never  before  have  I  heard  of  one — 
where  a  young  man  who  has  never  held  office  has 
thought  himself  entitled  to  dictate  to  a  Prime  Minister 
or  to  tell  him  he  will  accept,  not  the  post  tendered  to 
him,  but  another  post  more  to  his  taste.  Still  less 
has  any  candidate  been  known  to  impose  conditions 
upon  his  acceptance,  or  to  insist  that  two  offices  and 
not  one  shall  be  reserved  for  him  and  for  a  friend  in 
whose  behalf  he  speaks.  You  cannot  be  aware  how  far 
your  attitude  violates  all  tradition  and  political  usage. 
You  may  realize  this  in  part  when  you  know  by  ex- 
perience something  about  official  life.  And  some  day, 
when  you  shall  find  yourself  engaged  in  the  task  which 
now  occupies  me,  you  will  know  how  unprecedented 
and  indefensible  is  your  present  attitude." 

This  rebuke  was,  in  effect,  addressed  to  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain as  well  as  to  Dilke,  and  was  meant  to  be  handed 
on  by  Dilke  to  his  partner  ;  and  in  substance  was.  I 
am  not  sure  that  it  impressed  either  of  the  two  very 
deeply.  Mr.  Chamberlain's  seven  years'  seniority  to 
his  friend  had  cooled  none  of  his  fire.  They  knew  very 
well,  both  of  them,  what  they  were  doing  ;  and  I 
don't  doubt  that  Mr.  Chamberlain,  who  in  knowledge 
of  affairs  and  sagacity  was  superior  to  Dilke,  had  fore- 
seen what  kind  of  answer  to  their  demand  Mr.  Glad- 
stone was  likely  to  make. 

But  they  were  playing  for  great  stakes  and  risks 
had  to  be  taken.  Nor,  in  these  high  matters,  do  per- 
sonal sympathies  or  antipathies  count  for  so  much  as  in 
private  life.  No  Minister  has  ever  been  able  to  in- 
dulge his  partialities  to  the  full,  or  to  surround  him- 
self with  colleagues  all  of  whom  were  his  personal 
friends.  Mr.  Gladstone,  more  than  most  men,  was 
able  to  free  himself  from  influences  of  this  kind  and 


MR.    CHAMBERLAIN  13 

to  hold  the  scales  even.  His  personal  attachments 
were  not  strong.  And  he  knew — none  better — the 
inroads  which  even  then,  four  years  before  Democracy 
captured  the  electorate  and  became  the  ruling  force 
and  absolute  majority,  Radicalism  had  made  upon  that 
historical  Liberalism  of  which  Mr.  Gladstone  was  the 
greatest,  and  also  the  most  conservative,  leader. 

For  these  and  other  sufficient  reasons  Mr.  Glad- 
stone did  ultimately  accede  to  the  audacious  proposal 
which  he  rightly  described  in  the  terms  I  have  quoted 
above.  He  made  Mr.  Chamberlain,  who  had  never 
held  Parliamentary  office.  President  of  the  Board  of 
Trade,  and  Sir  Charles  Dilke  Under-Secretary  for 
Foreign  Affairs.  The  very  audacity  of  the  couf  had 
won.  It  was  not  from  Dilke,  and  of  course  not  from 
Mr.  Chamberlain,  that  I  heard  in  full  what  Mr. 
Gladstone  had  said  ;  but  long  after,  from  one  who 
knew  equally  well  what  had  passed  at  this  interview. 
From  Dilke  I  heard,  that  afternoon  and  later,  many 
things  which  I  do  not  repeat.  I  desire  to  give  only 
the  essential  facts,  and  only  those  which  concern  Mr. 
Chamberlain,  in  order  that  it  may  be  seen  by  what 
methods — by  what  violence  indeed — these  twin  heirs 
of  Danton  forced  open  a  door  which  the  most  power- 
ful, and  certainly  the  most  autocratic.  Minister  of  his 
time  had  closed. 

As  I  recall  the  scene  of  that  afternoon  in  Dilke's 
study,  Mr.  Chamberlain's  reserve  was  even  more 
remarkable  than  Dilke's  effusiveness.  He  was  clearly 
surprised  by  the  freedom  of  Dilke's  revelations  to  a 
man  whom  he.  Chamberlain,  knew  only  or  mainly 
as  a  journalist.  He  had  not  perhaps  at  that  time 
understood  that  a  journalist  may  be,  and  often  is, 
the  most  discreet  of  mankind.  He  knew  little  or 
nothing  of  The  Tribune  or  of  its  high  traditions,  or 


14         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

what  it  expected  of  a  representative  to  whom  it  had 
enstrusted  a  responsible  post.  He  thought  Dilke  rash, 
and  he  certainly  had  no  part  in  his  friend's  indiscre- 
tions, if  indiscretions  they  were. 

There  he  sat ;  silent,  a  little  puzzled,  a  good  deal 
amused,  perhaps  a  little  alarmed.  He  looked  a  Sphinx  ; 
though  he  had  not  her  composure.  He  smoked  im- 
patiently ;  the  puffs  from  his  cigar  expressing  well 
enough  the  perturbations  of  his  mind,  the  uneasi- 
ness of  the  position  in  which  he  found  himself. 
True,  he  was  aware  that  Dilke  and  I  were  friends, 
but  he  may  well  enough  have  thought  that  it  was 
not  wise  to  choose  a  journalist  as  friend,  and  to  pour 
out  to  him  the  secrets  of  a  political  crisis  ;  for  such  it 
was  to  him  and  to  Dilke. 

It  was  a  crisis  in  their  fortunes  and,  as  events 
proved,  in  the  fortunes  of  the  State.  It  was  the  real 
beginning  of  a  great  career.  Mr.  Chamberlain,  no 
doubt,  would  have  come  to  the  front  later,  even  if 
he  had  failed  then  ;  but  time  was  then  of  the  essence. 
What  he  wanted  was  a  place  in  that  Ministry  ;  not 
a  place  in  some  Ministry  of  the  future.  Mr.  Glad- 
stone was  expected  to  do  great  things,  as  he  did, 
though  not  precisely  the  things  on  which  he  and  his 
friends  and  Mr.  Chamberlain  himself  then  counted. 
It  would  have  been  far  more  difficult  to  force  his 
way  into  the  Government  later,  had  this  attempt 
been  foiled.  Above  all,  the  history  of  1885  and  1886 
could  not  have  been  the  same  ;  nor  could  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain's authority  have  sufficed  to  wreck  the  first 
Home  Rule  Bill.  It  was  therefore  the  turning- 
point  for  him.  He  stood  upon  the  threshold,  and 
no  wonder  he  was  disturbed  at  finding  a  journalist 
sharing  these  momentous  confidences.  No  wonder 
he  sat  silent.    I  only  wonder  he  did  not  try  to  silence 


MR.    CHAMBERLAIN  15 

Dilke.  But  he  did  not.  I  hope,  as  time  went  on, 
he  Vv^as  reassured.  But  even  now  I  cannot  help  being 
more  than  interested  as  I  see  the  twisted  muscles 
of  his  face,  as  one  anxiety  after  another  distorted 
that  austere  visage.  He  certainly  did  not  mean  to 
let  it  be  seen  that  he  distrusted  me,  and  I  suppose  he 
was  not  aware  how  little  the  expressions  that  swept 
over  his  face  were  under  his  control. 

The  truth  is,  Dilke  at  that  time  had  not  outgrown 
his  boyishness.  Whether  Mr.  Chamberlain  was  ever 
a  boy  I  am  not  sure.  He  had,  at  any  rate,  lived 
through  municipal  experiences  which,  in  one  sense, 
aged  him  prematurely.  Municipal  politics,  even 
when  handled  by  a  man  of  genius — a  quality  which 
none  would  now  deny  to  Mr.  Chamberlain — do  not 
tend  to  liberalize  a  man's  mind.  They  sharpen  it, 
and  perhaps  harden  it,  and  certainly  sometimes 
narrow  it.  In  Mr.  Chamberlain  they  never  did  ;  or, 
if  they  did,  he  grew  broad  again,  and  large,  and  all 
the  rest  of  his  life  took  ever  larger  and  larger  views, 
till  he  became  the  consummate  Imperialist  statesman 
of  whom  there  is  still  so  much  to  be  said. 


Ill 

Thus  far  I  have  written  of  Mr.  Chamberlain 
chiefly  as  orator  and  debater ;  a  master  of  words. 
If  he  had  been  only  that,  and  nothing  more,  his 
name  would  not  have  meant  to  England  what  it 
still  means  after  five  years  of  eclipse.  What  he  has 
said  has  often  been  admirable,  but  it  is  what  he  has 
done  that  has  given  him  his  unique  place  with  the 
English  people.     I  will  try  to  sum  up  in  sentences 


1 6         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

some  of  his  achievements,  and  I  begin  with  one  which 
may  commend  him  to  people  who  set  a  high  value 
on  what  they  call  practical  politics. 

He  is  the  best  electioneering  agent  ever  known 
in  England.  I  don't  refer  now  to  those  speeches 
on  the  platform  by  which  he  converted  to  his  own 
views  great  multitudes  of  voters.  I  mean  that  he 
had  no  equal  in  devising  and  handling  election 
machinery.  He  founded,  I  believe — at  any  rate  he 
developed — the  National  Liberal  Federation,  a 
superior  kind  of  caucus  and  a  vast  improvement  on 
the  American  caucus  which  was  supposed  to  have 
served,  but  did  not,  as  its  model.  He  established 
a  permanent  control  over  Birmingham.  He  extended 
that  control  through  the  Midlands,  rescued  great 
constituencies  from  his  opponents,  kept  what  he 
recovered,  and  the  Midlands  are  still  his.  First 
Liberal  and  then  Unionist  victories  throughout 
England  were  due  in  the  first  instance  to  him  and  his 
power  of  organizing  political  forces. 

He  defeated  Home  Rule  in  1886  and  again  in 
1893.  In  both  cases  he  had  powerful  allies,  but  in 
neither  is  it  probable  that  without  him  either  of 
Mr.  Gladstone's  Home  Rule  Bills  could  have  been 
beaten.  The  best  testimony  I  ever  heard  to  Mr. 
Chamberlain's  firmness  came  from  Lord  Randolph 
Churchill.     Lord  Randolph  said  : 

"  Mr.  Gladstone  offered  such  concessions  to  Mr. 
Chamberlain  that  I  never  understood  how  he  could 
reject  them.  I  should  have  given  in.  And  I  should 
have  wrecked  the  great  cause  which  Joe  saved." 

"  Joe  "  is  the  name  given  him  by  both  friends 
and  enemies  ;  a  name  of  affection  ;  and  of  hatred 
that  tried  to  be  contemptuous  and  failed. 

He  was  the  first  Englishman  to  conceive,  adopt, 


MR.    CHAMBERLAIN  17 

and  carry  through  that  wise  colonial  policy  which 
has  made  the  great  Colonies  at  the  same  time  inde- 
pendent and  loyal.  As  Secretary  of  State  for  the 
Colonies  from  1895  to  1903  he  gave  effect  to  the 
Imperial  idea  which  underlay  all  his  dealings  with  the 
Colonies.  In  proportion  as  their  control  over  their 
own  affairs  became  complete,  their  relations  to  the 
Mother  Country  became  closer.  They  became, 
in  a  new  sense,  integral  parts  of  the  British  Empire. 
They  ceased  to  be  Colonies  and  became  Common- 
wealths or  Dominions.  A  momentous  change.  It 
was  Mr.  Chamberlain's  work.  He  planted  and  he 
watered,  and  the  ripening  harvest  of  to-day  when 
these  great  States  meet  in  Imperial  Conference 
in  London,  the  Prime  Minister  of  Great  Britain 
presiding,  and  debate  great  questions  of  Imperial 
concern  on  even  terms,  is  "  Joe's "  harvest.  Ask 
Canada,  in  the  pride  of  her  Dominion,  what  she 
thinks  of  Mr.  Chamberlain.  Ask  Australia,  now  a 
Commonwealth.  Ask  whom  you  will.  I  take  it  no 
name  stands  higher,  no  Englishman  is  recognized  as 
a  greater  benefactor. 

I  can  think  of  but  one  man  who  has  done  a  work 
comparable  to  Mr.  Chamberlain's,  and  that  is  Cecil 
Rhodes  ;  not  in  South  Africa  only,  for  the  example 
and  inspiration  of  Cecil  Rhodes  were  far-reaching. 
The  two  men  wrought  together  ;  equal  partners 
in  the  great  enterprise  of  Empire-building.  It  has 
been  the  fashion  to  say  that  Chamberlain  brought 
on  the  South  African  War.  I  have  denied  that 
more  than  once,  on  the  authority  of  the  late  Duke  of 
Devonshire : 

"  It  was  no  more  Joe's  war  than  it  was  my  war. 
We  were  all  of  one  mind.  It  was  the  Ministry's 
war." 


1 8         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

And  it  had  to  be  fought  if  the  Empire  was  not  to 
go  to  pieces.  Kruger  and  the  Kaiser  between  them 
would  have  turned  all  South  and  Central  Africa  into 
a  German  principality. 

He  was  the  first  Englishman  thoroughly  to  free  his 
mind  from  the  worn-out  fetish  of  Free  Trade  ;  to 
adopt  for  himself,  and,  after  years  of  struggle,  to 
force  upon  the  Unionist  party,  a  policy  of  Tariff 
Reform.  Of  all  his  acts  this  was  probably  the  boldest. 
You  must  have  lived  long  in  England  before  you  can 
feel,  even  imperfectly,  the  hold  which  the  super- 
stitions of  Free  Trade  still  have  upon  the  English 
mind  ;  or  measure  the  effort  still  needed  to  emancipate 
not  merely  the  multitude  but  the  leaders  of  the 
multitude  from  their  slavery  to  the  economic  fallacies 
which  Cobden  taught.  The  struggle  is  not  over  ; 
victory  hangs  in  the  balance  ;  issues  even  greater 
have  delayed  its  coming  ;  the  leader  of  this  movement 
for  free  thought  about  Free  Trade  is  stricken  by  the 
wayside  ;  but  he  has  never  doubted  that  Tariff  Reform 
will  triumph.  In  that  world-wide  war  of  Tariffs, 
which  is  the  greatest  of  modern  wars,  England  is 
not  for  ever  to  stand,  alone  of  all  great  powers, 
defenceless.  When  she  arms  herself  with  the  weapons 
by  which  only  a  great  economic  battle  can  be  fought, 
she  will  owe  them  to  Mr.  Chamberlain.  Alone 
among  great  Englishmen,  or  for  a  long  time  alone, 
he  looked  across  the  Atlantic,  learned  the  lesson  of 
Protection,  and  Prosperity  the  child  of  Protection 
in  America,  and  taught  it  to  his  countrymen.  He 
converted  his  own  party,  and,  if  he  did  not  convert, 
coerced  the  leader  of  his  party.  When  that  party 
recovers  its  majority  in  the  country  and  in  Parliament, 
it  will  be  a  majority  for  Protection. 

On  a  question  more  vital  still,  Mr.  Chamberlain's 


MR.   CHAMBERLAIN  19 

five  years  of  retirement  have  meant  disaster  to  England. 
Think  what  the  history  of  these  recent  years  might 
have  been  had  he  been  in  the  full  vigour  of  his  powers. 
His  leadership,  his  voice  on  the  platform,  his  con- 
summate skill  in  elections,  have  carried  the  kingdom 
with  him  before  now,  and  might  have  carried  it 
again.  The  Budget  of  1909,  the  Parliament  Bill  of 
191 1 — is  it  certain  that  either  could  have  become 
law  had  Chamberlain  been  in  the  House  to  fight  the 
good  fight  against  both  ? 

Mr.  Balfour — yes,  Mr.  Balfour  is  a  man  with  a 
high  order  of  political  genius.  Like  Lord  Rosebery, 
he  is  a  diplomatist,  skilled  in  every  art  of  evading 
or  compromising  great  issues  ;  a  great  debater  and 
much  else.  But  he  is  not  a  man  whom  men  follow 
instinctively,  inevitably,  because  they  must.  There 
is  no  must.  He  asks  you  to  choose.  He  appeals  to 
reason  ;  he  philosophizes  ;  he  thinks  men  are  led  by 
the  subtleties  of  a  metaphysical  argument.  What 
they  are  led  by  is  a  trumpet  note,  such  as  you  used 
to  hear  from  Mr.  Chamberlain,  and  before  him  from 
Lord  Palmerston,  and  before  Palmerston — but  I 
will  come  to  that  presently.  Mr.  Balfour  under- 
stands logic,  Mr.  Chamberlain  understands  men.  The 
unhappy  peers  who  are  asked  to  choose  between 
the  executioner  and  suicide  are,  after  all,  men.  They 
are  loyal  to  ideas  centuries  old.     Huxley  said  : 

"  I  am  a  plebeian,  and  I  stand  by  my  order." 

May  not  even  a  duke  say  : 

"  I  am  an  aristocrat,  and  I  stand  by  my  order  "  ? 

Plebeian  or  aristocrat,  the  cry  comes  from  the 
heart  of  a  man,  and  that  is  what  Mr.  Chamberlain 
would  have  seen.  Byron's  line  is  on  the  lips  of  many 
an  Englishman  : 

Oh,  for  one  hour  of  blind  old  Dandolo  ! 


20        ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

The  longing  of  the  country  for  Mr.  Chamberlain, 
as  the  one  man  who  could  deal  with  the  crisis  of  to- 
day, is  perhaps  the  best  tribute  ever  offered  him. 

"  Think  imperially."  That  is  one  of  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain's phrases,  perhaps  the  finest  of  all  in  its  simplicity 
and  in  its  breadth.  There  was  no  counsel  of  which 
England  stood  in  greater  need  ;  none  which  condensed 
into  two  words  a  purpose  more  vital.  He  has  always 
had  that  art.  He  could  always  put  into  a  phrase, 
sometimes  into  a  word,  a  policy  meant  to  encircle 
the  globe.  If  you  think  it  an  easy  thing  to  do,  try  it. 
But  you  must  first  have  the  policy.  In  politics, 
as  elsewhere,  the  influence  of  an  idea,  of  a  policy 
based  on  an  idea  and  not  on  expedience,  is,  in  Emer- 
son's phrase,  mathematically  measurable  by  its  depth 
of  thought. 

f^In  great  moments  his  has  been  the  voice  of  England. 
I  will  ask  you  to  recall  the  hour  when,  alone  among 
public  men  of  the  first  rank,  he  took  up  the  German 
challenge,  which  long  had  echoed  through  Europe 
as  well  as  England.  He  spoke  as  no  other  man  had 
spoken,  of  German  arrogance,  of  German  hostility 
to  England — a  considered  hostility  with  a  clear 
purpose,  in  the  Press,  in  the  Reichstag,  and  in  the 
Imperial  Court — of  the  constant  German  menace 
to  the  peace  of  Europe  ;  of  the  peril  that  lay  half  hid 
in  Imperial  purposes.  Prince  Biilow,  then  Chancellor 
of  the  Empire,  undertook  to  answer  him,  to  rebuke 
him,  to  denounce  him  as  a  mischief-maker  between 
two  friendly  peoples.  Mr.  Chamberlain,  then  a 
Minister  of  the  Crown,  replied  to  Prince  Biilow  from 
his  place  in  Parliament  thus  : 

"  What  I  have  said,  I  have  said.  I  have  nothing 
to  retract,  nothing  to  defend,  nothing  to  explain. 
I  have  no  wish  to  read  a  lesson  to  the  Chancellor  of 


MR.    CHAMBERLAIN  21 

the  German  Empire,  nor  will  I  accept  any  at  his 
hands.  What  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  say  may  well 
have  been  unpleasing  to  him  and  to  his  master,  and 
perhaps  to  the  German  people.  But  as  I  read  English 
history  I  know  of  no  English  Minister  who  has  served 
his  Sovereign  and  his  country  loyally  and  at  the  same 
time  found  means  to  be  popular  abroad." 

Since  Chatham,  who  has  uttered  sentences  like 
those  ?  Who  has  spoken  in  that  spirit  ?  Who  has 
put  diplomacy  behind  him,  and  told  sixty  millions 
of  a  more  or  less  hostile  people  the  plain  truth  in 
plain  words  ?  It  was  the  day  of  bitter  party  strife 
and  of  deep  divisions  between  not  only  parties  but 
classes  :  and  Mr.  Chamberlain  was  the  Alinister  most 
hated  by  his  political  opponents.  But  to  this  retort 
to  the  Imperial  Chancellor  all  England  said  Amen. 
Nor  did  Prince  Biilow  carry  the  contest  further. 
He  had  no  answer  but  silence.  Mr.  Chamberlain's 
assertion  of  the  dignity  of  England  and  of  the  inde- 
pendence of  a  Minister  of  the  Crown  lives  in  the 
memory  of  the  English  people,  and  will  long  live. 

It  is  a  thing  said  once  for  all  and  for  all  time  ;  the 
final  word  in  a  great  dispute  ;  the  final  denial  of  an 
arrogant  German  claim.  The  great  Minister  who 
said  it  established  once  for  all,  as  I  believe  the  world 
thinks,  his  claim  to  the  gratitude  and  affection  of 
the  people  in  whose  name  it  was  said. 


CHAPTER    II 
THE  EIGHTH  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE 

I 

T  ONDON  has  one  more  statue,  not  much  better 
■^^  or  worse  than  most  of  those  which  present 
themselves  to  the  beholder  as  illustrations  of  that 
genius  for  sculpture  which  at  present  resides  and  for 
some  time  past  has  resided  in  the  British  breast.  The 
art  merit  of  these  productions  matters  the  less  since 
both  artist  and  beholder  seem  content  with  them. 
But  let  us  not  look  at  it  like  the  Philistines  most  of  us 
are  with  respect  to  art.  Let  us  rather  say  that  what 
really  matters  is  that  there  should  be  a  memorial  of 
some  sort,  good  or  bad,  to  the  great  men  of  the  nation 
or  to  the  men  who  have  done  high  service  to  the 
State. 

This  latest  testimony  of  public  gratitude  is  to  the 
eighth  Duke  of  Devonshire,  who  died  in  1908  after 
a  life  of  devotion  to  the  highest  interests  of  the  king- 
dom and  of  the  British  people  ;  a  devotion  than  which 
none  in  our  time  has  been  nobler.  It  is  thought  a 
sufficient  eulogy  to  record  on  that  surface  of  the  plinth 
which  looks  to  the  Horse  Guards  his  name  and  the 
dates  of  his  birth  and  death.  It  is  sufficient.  From 
1833,  or  rather  from  early  manhood  to  1908,  he 
was,  I  think,  absolutely  the  most  disinterested  and  one 
of  the  most  useful  public  servants  who  lived  during 
any  part  of  those  seventy-five  years. 


EIGHTH  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE        23 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  he  was  a  Duke.  If,  as 
sundry  Radicals  now  profess  to  think,  the  inherited 
possession  of  that  title  and  of  a  great  fortune  out- 
weighs and  neutralizes  all  personal  merits,  there  is 
no  more  to  be  said.  But  that  has  not  yet  come  to  be 
a  general  opinion.  And  even  if  it  had,  during  the 
larger  part  of  his  life  the  late  Duke  was  no  Duke, 
but  bore  the  courtesy  title,  Marquis  of  Hartington  ; 
or  in  common  speech.  Lord  Hartington  ;  and,  per- 
haps still  more  often,  just  Hartington.  Let  that 
serve  in  mitigation  of  his  later  misfortune  when 
upon  the  death  of  his  father,  in  1891,  the  dukedom 
descended  upon  him. 

No  doubt  he  would  be  classed  during  the  whole  of 
his  life  by  Mr.  Lloyd  George  among  the  idle  rich. 
But  it  was  a  kind  of  idleness  which,  to  men  who  have 
less  time  to  spare  for  invective  than  the  present 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  has,  would  seem  arduous. 
I  was  with  him  once  when  he  was  out  of  office,  sitting 
at  his  writing-table,  strewn  with  papers — masses  of 
papers — and  I  said  : 

"  You  seem  to  find  something  to  do,  though  you 
are  no  longer  Minister  of  War." 

"  Yes,  there's  always  something.  The  business  of 
the  estate  and  my  other  private  affairs  would  alone 
keep  me  at  my  desk  from  ten  in  the  morning  to  four 
in  the  afternoon,  every  day  in  the  year." 

The  heads  of  the  biggest  houses  in  the  City  don't 
much  exceed  that  ;  England  being,  as  we  all  know, 
a  country  where  business  is  transacted  with  delibera- 
tion, and  the  meaning  of  the  word  hustle  is  unknown. 

Yet  there  was  no  man  who  liked  better  to  amuse 
himself.  He  liked  the  Turf,  on  which  he  was  singu- 
larly unsuccessful ;  liked  sport  of  many  kinds,  in  none 
of  which  was  he  extraordinarily  expert  ;    liked  cards. 


24         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

which  he  played  with  skill  and,  above  all,  with  judg- 
ment ;  and  liked  certain  forms  of  society  and  social 
life.  He  was  supposed,  as  every  man  in  public  life  is 
supposed,  to  be  ambitious.  But  if  ambition  came  to 
him  it  came  late  ;  nor  did  it,  in  the  vulgar  sense, 
ever  come.  Is  a  man  ambitious  who  twice,  from 
purely  public  motives,  refuses  an  offered  Prime 
Ministership  ?  It  was  not  his  habit  to  talk  about 
himself,  but  he  sometimes  let  fall  a  sentence  which 
was  illuminative.  We  had  been  dining  at  the  same 
house,  and  after  dinner  drove  together  in  a  hansom — 
in  those  happy  days,  consule  Planco,  when  the  hansom 
was  still  what  Disraeli  called  it,  the  gondola  of  London 
— to  the  Gaiety  Theatre.  I  said  I  thought  he  was  to 
have  spoken  that  evening  in  Lancashire. 

"  No,  it  has  been  put  off  till  next  week." 

"  You  will  have  a  great  meeting." 

"  I  dare  say.    But  if  you  knew  how  it  all  bores  me." 

There  came  a  time  when  it  bored  him  much  less, 
or  not  at  all,  whether  in  the  House  of  Commons  or 
on  the  platform,  but  at  all  times  he  made  his  speech 
with  the  same  fidelity.  He  did  as  well  as  he  could. 
Few  men  ever  served  a  longer  apprenticeship  to 
oratory,  yet  never,  in  the  larger  sense  of  the  word, 
did  he  become  an  orator.  I  heard  him  from  time 
to  time,  at  all  periods  of  his  career.  He  had  no 
natural  gift  of  fluent  discourse,  nor  perhaps  ever 
understood  what  rhetoric  meant.  But  he  had  some- 
thing to  say  and  a  resolute  purpose  to  say  it  as  well 
as  he  knew  how.  In  time,  and  with  untiring  practice, 
his  sentences  grew  clear  and  strong,  and  became  the 
adequate  expression  of  the  man's  thought  and  will. 
If  it  was  not  oratory  it  was  perhaps  something  better  ; 
a  speech  of  absolute  sincerity.  No  man  ever  suspected 
him  of  saying  what  he  did  not  think  and  believe  and 


EIGHTH  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE         is 

intend.  He  was,  until  very  late,  a  2e::er  .i>ir..:::is- 
trator  than  orator,  and  better  in  the  Cabinet  or  in 
private  council  than  as  either  Minister  or  Head  of  a 
Department. 

I  v,tLI  say  this.  I  have  never  known  a  man  in  whom 
the  sense  of  justice  was  stronger  than  in  Lord  Hart- 
ington.  It  put  him,  as  it  were,  under  compulsion  to 
do  justice,  the  most  complete  justice,  to  the  men  or 
the  man  whom  he  disliked.  I  will  give  one  instance 
out  of  manv.  Goldwin  Smith,  in  his  Reminiscences — 
a  disappointing  yet  entrancing  book — puts  the  cro"wn 
to  his  long  diatribe  against  Mr.  Chamberlain  by  say- 
ing that  Mr.  Chamberlain  brought  on  the  Boer  \^  ar. 
Mr.  Goldwin  Smith,  it  is  cmte  true,  only  expresses, 
or  echoes,  what  was  at  the  time  a  general  belief  or 
impression.  That  it  was  also  Mr.  Goldwin  Smith's 
private  conviction  I  don't  doubt.  He  was  incapable, 
even  in  his  not  infrequent  hours  of  bitterness,  of 
sa}-ing  what  he  did  not  believe.  But.  like  Mr.  Glad- 
stone, he  could  con'S'ince  himself  of  anything  ;  as  Mr. 
Forster  told  his  late  leader  to  his  face  in  the  House 
of  Commons.  At  the  time  when  this  rumour  was 
rife,  and  the  Radicals  were  trvin?  to  make  Mr,  Cham- 
berlain  a  scapegoat,  I  met  Lord  Harrington  one 
evening  at  a  club  and  we  dined  together.  He  was 
then  Lord  President  of  the  Council  in  Mr.  Balfour's 
Cabinet,  Mr.  Chamberlain  being  Secretary  of  State 
for  the  Colonies.  After  a  while  he  began  talking 
about  the  Boer  War,  with  what  I  thought  an  unusual 
unreserve.    He  said  : 

"  In  a  sense  it  is  not  our  war  at  aU.  It  was  forced 
upon  us.  I  don't  know  what  you  think  about  it,  but 
we  are  in  truth  fighting  in  South  Africa  for  the 
Empire.  If  we  lose  South  Africa,  who  can  say  what 
we  shall  keep  ?  " 


26         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

"  Yes,  I  think  people  are  beginning  to  see  that, 
and  that  is  one  reason  why  your  disasters  stir  English 
feeling  so  deeply.  But  you  used  the  phrase  '  our 
war.'    Many  men  call  it  '  Chamberlain's  war.'  " 

"  It  is  no  more  Chamberlain's  war  than  it  is  mine. 
When  I  say  '  our  war,'  I  mean  it  of  the  whole  Cabinet. 
We  were  all  agreed  at  the  beginning.  We  are  all 
agreed  now.     It  is  '  our  war.'  " 

"  May  I  repeat  that  ?  " 

"  You  may  repeat  what  I  said  first,  that  it  is  no  more 
Chamberlain's  war  than  it  is  mine.  But,  of  course, 
I  must  not  commit  or  compromise  my  colleagues.  It 
will  be  known  later,  when  the  war  is  over,  that  the 
Cabinet  were  of  one  mind.  But  I  am  quite  ready 
to  take  my  share  of  the  responsibility." 

As  it  did  become  known,  and  as  the  war  ended  in 
victories  which  consolidated  not  only  South  Africa, 
but  the  other  great  Dominions,  and  the  Empire  itself, 
I  think  I  may  now  give  the  whole  of  Lord  Harting- 
ton's  testimony.  I  need  only  point  out  that  at  the 
time  when  he  thus  put  himself  by  Mr.  Chamberlain's 
side  the  war  was  unpopular  because  ill-understood  and 
because  success  seemed  doubtful.  The  Imperial  pur- 
pose of  it  was  obscured.  It  was  not  clearly  seen  to 
be  a  defensive  war,  as  it  was,  and  sentimental  clamours 
rang  through  the  land,  and  the  apostles  of  peace  and 
of  a  Little  England  were  loud-mouthed.  It  needed  a 
man  to  face  all  that. 

Lord  Hartington,  it  is  true,  belonged  not  only  to 
the  governing  class,  but  to  one  of  the  great  governing 
families  of  England.  I  doubt  whether  popular 
clamours,  sentimental  or  otherwise,  disturbed  him. 
He  knew  very  well  that  he  had  fallen  upon  times  when 
the  centre  of  political  power  had  shifted,  and  that  a 
majority  of  the  electorate  was  democratic.     But  he 


EIGHTH  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE        27 

knew  that  the  inevitable  had  happened,  and  that  the 
game  had  to  be  played,  if  at  all,  under  these  new  con- 
ditions. He  accepted  them,  but  his  courage  in  the 
presence  of  overwhelming  hostile  majorities  was  never 
shaken.  When  the  Khaki  election  and  a  new  lease  of 
power  to  the  Unionists  came,  it  came  as  a  vindication 
of  his  judgment.  Testimony  to  his  courage  he  needed 
none. 

The  office  of  Lord  President  of  the  Council,  which 
the  Duke  then  held,  is  supposed  to  be,  and  sometimes 
is,  chiefly  ornamental.  It  is  coveted  for  the  sake  of 
the  dignity  and  for  the  sake  of  the  social  precedence 
it  gives.  It  had,  in  the  Duke  of  Devonshire's  case,  a 
very  different  significance  ;  as  it  has  had  in  some  other 
cases.  It  is  a  convenient  position  for  a  man  who  no 
longer  cares  to  be  burdened  with  Departmental  duties. 
It  is  equally  convenient  for  the  Prime  Minister  to 
have  a  post  at  his  disposal  splendid  enough  to  tempt 
a  man  whose  presence  in  the  Cabinet  is  desirable  for 
personal  reasons.  The  Duke  lent  to  Mr.  Balfour's 
Ministry  a  great  name.  He  had  had  immense  ex- 
perience. He  had  a  mature,  sagacious  judgment.  He 
had,  in  a  degree  possessed  by  nobody  else  after  Lord 
Salisbury's  death,  the  confidence  of  the  country.  That 
it  was  which  made  his  declaration  about  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain, and  his  readiness  to  share  the  responsibility  for 
the  Boer  War,  invaluable. 

Character — what  else  is  there  ?  Lord  Hartington 
sometimes  made  a  bold  use  of  the  authority  which 
character  gave  him.  In  that  strange  dispute  which 
lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  quarrel  between  the  Prince 
of  Wales  (Edward  VII)  and  Lord  Randolph  Churchill, 
Lord  Hartington  was  asked  to  intervene.  Into  the 
details  I  had  rather  not  go,  known  though  they  are 
to  many  persons  in  London.     But  the  happiness  and 


28         ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

reputation  of  two  great  families  were  involved,  and 
there  were  compromising  letters  which  one  party  to 
the  quarrel  threatened  to  divulge.  When  Lord 
Hartington  was  appealed  to  he  said  he  could  do 
nothing  unless  he  saw  the  letters.  They  were  brought 
and  put  into  his  hands.    He  read  them.    Then  : 

"  Are  there  any  more  ?  " 

"No." 

"  I  have  your  authority  to  make  such  use  of  these 
letters  as  I  think  best  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Whereupon  Lord  Hartington  walked  to  the  fire, 
put  the  letters  into  the  blazing  grate,  saw  them  burn 
to  ashes,  and  said  : 

"  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  necessary  to  carry  this 
matter  further." 

And  to  a  protest  he  replied  : 

"  You  are  at  liberty  to  say  what  you  like  and  do 
what  you  like.  I  have  acted  in  what  I  consider  to  be 
the  interests  of  both  sides." 

Naturally,  there  are  more  versions  than  one  of  this 
incident,  but  the  one  I  give  I  believe  to  be  the  true 
one.    Said  one  of  those  present  : 

"  Hartington  is  the  only  man  I  know  who  could 
have  done  it  without  question.  But  that  is  because 
he  is  Hartington." 


II 

The  last  time  I  saw  the  late  Duke  of  Devonshire, 
or  rather  the  last  time  I  had  a  talk  with  him  of  any 
length,  was  in  the  summer  of  1907,  at  Devonshire 
House.     I  had  met  him  just  before  at  Ascot  and  he 


EIGHTH  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE        29 

had  begun  discussing  an  international  matter  of  im- 
portance. After  a  few  sentences  he  stopped,  saying 
with  a  laugh  : 

"  This  is  hardly  the  place  for  a  talk  on  such  a  ques- 
tion. Look  in  some  morning  next  week  and  then  we 
can  go  over  the  whole  business." 

When  I  looked  in  he  was  in  his  room  at  the  north- 
west angle  of  Devonshire  House,  commanding  the 
gardens  and  grounds,  which  are  perhaps  the  finest  in 
London,  and  all  the  finer  because  the  grounds  about 
Lansdowne  House  seem  to  be  part  of  them  ;  which 
they  are  not.  The  room  is  one  of  the  largest,  if  not 
the  largest,  in  Devonshire  House  ;  a  palace  which  its 
architect  chose  to  subdivide  in  a  way  that  diminishes 
the  sense  of  spaciousness  you  expect  in  a  house  of  this 
kind.  His  writing-table  faced  the  north  windows. 
Some  of  the  best  pictures  are  here.  There  are  books  ; 
there  is,  all  over  the  room,  the  air  of  being  lived  in. 
To  the  right  of  the  large  desk  was  a  table  covered 
with  cigar  and  cigarette  cases,  perhaps  thirty  in  all  ; 
mostly  gifts,  I  should  guess,  arranged  with  a  precision 
of  which  only  a  servant  would  be  capable,  and  pre- 
sumably not  in  daily  use. 

The  clear  north  light — for  even  in  London  the  air 
is  sometimes  clear — fell  on  his  face.  The  Cavendishes 
are  of  a  type  which  is  their  own.  The  present  Duke, 
a  son  of  the  late  Duke's  brother.  Lord  Edward  Caven- 
dish, is  the  lesser  image  of  his  uncle  as  he  was  earlier  in 
life.  At  seventy-three  or  seventy-four,  after  half  a 
century  of  responsibilities  and  labours,  the  late  Duke 
had  a  look  of  power,  and  those  lines  of  patient  thought 
which  belonged  to  his  age.  But  the  features  were 
not  much  changed.  The  rather  high,  cliff-like  fore- 
head, the  blue  eyes,  tired  from  over-use,  the  straight 
nose  largely  moulded,  the   mouth  with  the  Bourbon 


30        ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

under-lip,  the  square  angle  of  the  chin,  were  very 
much  what  they  had  been.  With  all  its  regularities 
of  feature  and  proportion,  the  face  was  not  beautiful. 
It  was  something  much  better.  It  had  strength  and 
faith  and  the  stamp  of  that  genuineness  which  pene- 
trated and  saturated  his  whole  nature.  It  mirrored 
his  mind.  When  struggling  with  a  thought  he  could 
not  express  as  he  wished,  the  lips  from  which  the 
words  ought  to  have  flowed  grew  twisted  and  rigid. 
He  looked  at  you  as  if  to  give  him  the  missing  word, 
but  he  would  not  have  it  unless  it  fitted  exactly.  He 
had  never  been  fluent,  but  his  lack  of  fluency  never 
embarrassed  him,  as  the  too  familiar  story  of  his 
yawning  in  the  middle  of  one  of  his  own  speeches 
attests. 

He  had  always  been  in  the  habit  of  reading  in  bed 
at  all  hours  of  the  night,  whether  from  sleeplessness 
or  caprice.  When  his  doctor  told  him  it  would  injure 
the  eyes,  he  said  :  "  Yes,  but  I  can't  lie  awake  and  do 
nothing."  And  when  asked  if  the  eyes  did  not  pain 
him  he  again  said  :  "  Yes,  but  it  is  a  choice  of  evils." 
His  was,  in  truth,  a  stubborn  nature,  self-willed,  im- 
patient of  advice,  even  when  it  came  from  his  doctor. 
His  hair  and  full,  close-cut  beard,  light  brown  to 
begin  with,  had  turned  grey  of  late  years,  and  the  hair 
tumbled  about  his  forehead.  It  always  seemed  to 
those  about  him  that  as  the  end  drew  near  he  faced 
death  with  a  tranquil,  almost  defiant  courage  ;  with 
a  fortitude  that  never  failed.  He  had  lived  his  life, 
the  whole  of  it,  and  on  all  sides.  That  morning  he 
uttered  one  sentence,  and  one  only,  which  sounded 
like  an  allusion  to  the  near  future.  We  were  speaking 
of  what  was  likely  to  be  the  end  of  a  certain  contro- 
versy. "  Yes,"  he  said,  "  but  I  shall  not  see  it."  Nor 
did  he. 


EIGHTH  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE        31 

Concerning  the  subject  we  discussed,  he  said  : 

"  I  think  it  will  be  convenient  if  you  will  state 
your  whole  case  from  your  American  point  of  view. 
As  you  know,  it  has  never  come  before  me  officially." 

As  the  subject  was  important,  he  put  his  mind  to 
it.  He  asked  questions  as  I  went  on.  Sometimes  I 
had  to  repeat  a  statement.  Sometimes  he  made  a 
comment  :  brief,  weighty,  penetrating.  No  question 
of  high  policy  could  be  wholly  strange  to  him  after 
forty  years  of  experience  in  statecraft.  Now,  as  before, 
it  struck  me  that  he  never,  like  Boswell's  Johnson, 
talked  for  victory  ;  he  wanted  to  get  at  the  truth  and 
to  convince  himself  what  was  best  for  his  own  country. 
He  had  been  brought  up  in  a  school  certain  to  hold 
a  view  adverse  to  our  American  view  on  this  topic. 
That  to  him  was  only  a  reason  for  taking  the  more 
pains  to  understand  the  unfamiliar  view,  and  to  make 
out,  if  he  could,  how  the  two  hostile  views  were  to 
be  reconciled,  or  whether  there  was  a  basis  for  com- 
promise. Never  contentious,  he  had  immovable  con- 
victions ;  a  safeguard  against  contention. 

Mr.  Lowe  or  somebody  else  said  of  Lord  Hartington 
that  what  he  liked  about  him  was  his  "  you-be-damned- 
ness."  The  phrase  is  expressive,  but  conveys  a  wrong 
impression.  All  Mr.  Lowe  meant  was  that  Lord 
Hartington  had  an  uncompromising  independence  of 
nature  and  a  mind  of  such  fibre  that  it  yielded  no 
assent — still  less  obedience — to  mere  authority.  His 
attitude  to  other  men  or  other  opinions  was  not  an 
attitude  of  contempt.  Contempt  comes  cheap,  and 
is  worth  no  more  than  it  costs.  What  he  really  had 
was  patience  of  mind.  He  listened  with  patience  to 
opinions  he  could  not  possibly  share.  He  had  not 
only  the  politeness  which  goes  with  long  descent  and 
great  place,  but  a  real  desire  to  find  out  what  were 


32         ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

the  reasons  which  induced  a  man  to  hold  such  opinions. 
If  it  were  an  unfamiliar  set  of  facts,  he  was  in  a  similar 
mood.  He  would  not  give  judgment  until  he  had 
mastered  the  facts  and  knew  both  sides. 

All  this  and  much  more  came  out  as  we  sat  there 
for  some  two  hours  of  that  pleasant  July  morning,  the 
sunshine  playing  with  the  shadows  on  the  lawn.  You 
saw  that  here  was  a  man  with  his  mind  long  since 
made  up,  yet  willing  to  reopen  it  if  cause  were  shown. 
I  thought  of  1886  and  of  those  interviews  between 
Mr.  Gladstone  and  Lord  Hartington,  when  Mr. 
Gladstone  strove  to  convert  his  colleague  to  Home 
Rule.  Unlike  Lord  Spencer — "  If  you  had  ever  been 
half  an  hour  alone  in  a  room  with  Mr.  Gladstone  you 
would  know  why  I  gave  in  " — Lord  Hartington  was 
under  no  spell.  He  knew  very  well  that  no  matter 
what  arguments  his  leader  used,  he  should  never  arrive 
at  his  conclusions,  nor  ever  be  party  to  a  scheme  for 
breaking  the  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and 
Ireland  into  fragments.  He  listened,  but  never  for  a 
moment  was  his  conviction  shaken.  Against  that  rock 
the  floods  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  eloquence  beat  in  vain. 

In  the  subjects  we  considered  at  Devonshire  House 
I  was  a  good  deal  interested,  but  while  this  talk  lasted 
I  was  at  least  as  much  interested  in  the  man  with 
whom  I  talked.  His  sincerity  of  character  I  knew — 
everybody  knew  ;  but  what  he  showed  now  was  above 
all  things  a  sincerity  of  mind.  He  had  an  intellectual 
honesty  comparable  to  his  honesty  of  nature.  The 
arts  of  debate  he  put  aside.  There  was  nothing  Parlia- 
mentary in  his  method.  The  arts  of  the  advocate  he 
disdained.  There  was  nothing  either  in  his  method 
or  in  the  man  himself  which  you  could  call  forensic. 
He  opened  his  mind  to  you  with  perfect  frankness. 
The  tricks   of   the   Socratic   dialogue   were   not   his. 


EIGHTH  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE      33 

He  had  not,  perhaps,  the  subtlety  which  that  process 
requires,  but  he  certainly  had  a  preference  for  sim- 
plicity and  loyalty  which  made  it  impossible  to  him  to 
lay  traps  for  an  opponent  or  to  contrive  an  ambush 
for  an  enemy.  He  met  you,  if  at  all,  in  the  open  field, 
on  even  terms. 

That  is  what  he  had  done  all  his  life  ;  a  life  crowded 
with  public  and  private  interests ;  temptations  of  one 
kind  or  another  lying  in  wait  for  him  at  every  step. 
Not  once  had  he  yielded.  Not  once  had  he  swerved 
from  the  straight,  hard  line  of  truth  and  honour  and 
honourable  conduct.  The  bronze  statue  of  him  in 
Whitehall  is  not  more  erect,  unbending,  self-poised 
than  was  he.  You  would  know  it  afar  off  if  only  from 
the  up-springing  carriage  of  the  head  ;  unconscious 
in  Hartington  himself,  but  patrician. 

He  was  no  more  afraid  to  defend  his  own  interests 
than  those  of  the  State  ;  when  the  two  happened  to 
coincide.  He  resisted  Harcourt's  Death  Duties  in 
1894  on  both  grounds.  He  gave  Chatsworth  as  an 
illustration.  The  Dukes  of  Devonshire  had  kept  up 
that  place  partly  for  the  public,  partly  for  the  tenants 
and  neighbours,  as  well  as  for  themselves.  They  had 
put  a  great  share  of  their  revenue  back  into  the  land. 
They  had  given  yearly  great  sums.  Said  Lord  Harting- 
ton then,  in  substance  : 

"  You  cannot  have  it  both  ways.  If  you  exact  from 
us  by  law  what  we  have  given  of  our  free  will  we  shall 
obey  the  law,  but  we  shall  no  longer  have  the  means  to 
bestow  in  charity  what  we  have  bestowed  heretofore  ; 
or  what  the  law  now  takes  from  us." 

He  was  much  criticized.  The  Radicals  raged,  after 
their  manner.  But  who  does  not  now  see  that  he  was 
right  ?  The  people  who  own  no  land  and  wish  to 
make  land  bear  all  its  own  burdens  and  theirs  besides. 


34         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

do  not  see,  and  will  not  see.  The  Dukes  of  Devonshire 
own  a  considerable  Irish  property,  Lismore.  Said  the 
late  Duke — I  do  not  know  whether  he  himself  ever 
said  it  publicly  : 

"  I  have  had  the  figures  examined.  Within  a  recent 
period  we  have  spent  on  Lismore  for  the  benefit  of 
the  tenants  ^34,000  ($170,000)  more  than  we  have 
received  from  it  in  rent." 

Even  with  that,  I  suppose  the  single  taxers  and  other 
Socialists  would  not  be  content.  They  want  the  whole. 
No  man  knows  what  the  end  will  be. 

It  was,  I  believe,  when  these  Lismore  figures  were 
quoted  in  the  House  of  Commons  that  a  Nationalist 
Member  asked  : 

"  How  long  is  it  since  the  Duke  of  Devonshire  has 
been  in  Ireland  ?  " 

And  from  across  the  floor  came  the  answer  : 

"  Not  since  his  brother  was  murdered  in  Phoenix 
Park." 

Who  said  it  I  do  not  know.  I  wish  I  did.  It  is 
worthy  to  rank  with  Colonel  Saunderson's  answer  to  a 
demand  for  his  reasons  against  Home  Rule. 

"  There  are  in  this  House  sixty-nine  good  and 
sufficient  reasons  against  Home  Rule,  and  there  they 
sit  I  " 

Our  talk  did  not  then  turn  on  these  matters,  but  my 
memories  of  other  talks  and  of  Lord  Hartington  as  a 
steadfast  advocate  of  the  rights  of  all  classes  are  many, 
and  I  choose  out  of  them  such  as  seem  to  me  best  to 
paint  the  man. 

The  American  tourist  who  has  seen  Chatsworth 
has  probably  brought  away  with  him  the  impression 
that  it  is  all  state  apartments.  Only  that  wing  of  the 
house  is  shown.  They  are  of  a  great  and  impressing 
splendour,  but  those  parts  of  the  house  in  which  the 


EIGHTH  DUKE  OF  DEVONSHIRE      2s 

family  live,  though  still  splendid,  are  delightful  and 
homelike.  The  library  contains  treasures  known  the 
world  over.  The  morning -room  is  panelled  with 
Titians,  and  I  was  going  to  say  Van  Dycks,  but  I  have 
forgotten.  The  bedrooms  are,  or  were,  equally 
magnificent  and  primitive.  There  were  no  bells,  but 
a  servant  in  livery  waited  outside  the  door  to  take 
your  orders.  The  dining-room  is  of  great  size  and 
beauty.  The  most  beautiful  thing  I  ever  saw  in  it 
was  the  light  on  the  face  of  the  late  Duke's  father  as 
we  sat  at  lunch,  and  Lord  Hartington  arrived  unex- 
pectedly, having  ridden  over  from  Hardwick  Hall 
where  he  then  lived.  Never  between  father  and  son 
was  there  a  more  perfect  relation  than  between  these 
two.  Lord  Hartington  once  broke  through  his  reserve 
to  say  to  me  : 

"  I  owe  everything  to  my  father  ;  everything." 
From  a  man  whose  emotions  easily  found  their 
way  out,  that  might  not  have  meant  much.  From 
him  it  meant  precisely  what  he  said  ;  and  he  said  it 
as  if  the  obligation  were  one  he  was  bound  to  acknow- 
ledge. The  burden  of  gratitude  to  his  father  would 
not  be  borne  for  ever  in  silence. 

If,  as  Mr.  Price  Collier  says,  Americans  do  not  like 
Englishmen,  they  surely  would  not  have  liked  Lord 
Hartington.  He  had  in  the  highest  degree  those 
English  traits  which  Americans,  some  Americans, 
think  un-American  :  the  not  wearing  his  heart  on 
his  sleeve,  the  absence  of  effusiveness,  of  self-assertion, 
of  swagger  in  any  kind.  I  have  used  some  superlatives 
in  sketching  him,  but  I  dismiss  all  I  have  said  as  in- 
adequate ;  perhaps  because  of  the  superlatives.  They 
always  betray  you.  They  will  not  do  the  work  they 
are  meant  to.  To  Lord  Hartington  himself  they 
would  not  have  been  agreeable.    He  used  none. 


36         ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

Delete  them,  then,  if  you  will,  and  think  of  Lord 
Hartington  as  what  he  was,  an  Englishman  without 
brilliancy,  without  pretence,  without  great  original 
genius,  without  much  literature  or  art  ;  not  a  great 
administrator  in  the  official  sense,  but  a  man  who, 
never  seeking  it,  won  the  confidence  of  his  country- 
men, deserved  it,  did  high  service  to  the  State,  to 
which  his  devotion  was  wholly  unselfish.  A  man  who 
was,  and  will  remain,  an  example  of  truth,  judgment, 
wise  conduct  in  great  affairs,  and  integrity  never 
questioned.  He  seemed  a  part  of  the  British  Con- 
stitution. Were  he  still  alive,  the  powerful  Ministry 
now*  seeking  to  overthrow  the  Constitution  would 
have  had  to  overthrow  him  also  ;  which  would  have 
added  something  to  the  difficulty  of  their  endeavour. 

*   Written  early  in  191 1.    They  have  since  succeeded;  temporarily. 


CHAPTER    III 
THE   LATE   DUCHESS   OF   DEVONSHIRE 

/^NCE  or  twice  in  a  generation  appears  a  woman 
^""^  who  takes  command  of  the  social  world  in 
which  she  lives.  Lady  Jersey  was  such  a  woman. 
Lady  Palmerston  was  another.  They  are  historical 
instances.  The  late  Duchess  of  Devonshire  was  a 
third  ;  and  not  the  least  remarkable  of  the  three. 
To  round  out  a  career  like  any  one  of  these  there 
must  be  something  more  than  character  or  exceptional 
gifts.  There  must  be  opportunity,  and  circumstances 
must  combine  with  fortune.  They  did  in  the  late 
Duchess's  case,  but  rather  late  in  life  ;  yet  I  cannot 
remember  a  time  when  she  was  not  a  great  power  in 
London. 

Whether  her  foreign  birth  was  against  her  I  know 
not.  London  has  a  great  power  of  assimilation.  It 
has  adopted  many  a  woman  not  of  English  blood  into 
that  charmed  and  sometimes  charming  circle  known 
as  Society.  With  German  Kings  and  Queens  to  rule 
over  them  and  an  army  of  their  kin  encamped  in  May- 
fair,  why  should  there  be  any  hesitation  about  the 
social  naturalization  of  the  alien  ?  There  is  none, 
in  one  sense.  There  is  only  a  process  of  selection. 
Of  the  American  women  who  have  married  English 
husbands,  some  have  been  taken  and  others  left,  but, 
on  the  whole,  the  American  record  is  a  good  one.  We 
perhaps  think  it  a  tribute  to  the  charm  of  the  American 

37 


38         ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

woman,  as  it  is,  though  churlish  patriots  at  home  take 
a  view  different  from  that.  But  we  do  not  always  stop 
to  think  how  many  wives  of  English  husbands  are 
neither  English  nor  American. 

The  great  lady  who  died  on  the  15th  of  this  month* 
was  the  daughter  of  Charles  Francis  Victor,  Count 
von  Alten,  a  Hanoverian  nobleman.  From  her  girl- 
hood she  had  a  renown  for  beauty.  She  was  an  orna- 
ment of  the  Court  of  King  George  V  of  Hanover  : 
who  never  saw  her,  poor  blind  King  that  he  was. 
Born,  they  say,  in  1832,  but  that  has  always  been  dis- 
puted. There  has  always  been  a  question  how  old 
she  was  ;  partly  because  she  was  so  long  young. 
What  is  certain  is  that  in  1852  she  married  Lord 
Mandeville,  son  and  heir  to  the  sixth  Duke  of  Man- 
chester. It  was  not  supposed  to  be  a  pre-eminently 
fortunate  alliance.  There  was  an  ancestor,  an  Earl 
of  Manchester,  who  was  one  of  Cromwell's  generals, 
and  a  good  one,  as  he  proved  at  the  battle  of  Marston 
Moor  and  elsewhere.  But  when  Mile,  von  Alten 
married  Lord  Mandeville  the  possessions  of  the  family 
were  not  precisely  splendid,  and  the  scope  for  Lady 
Mandeville's  ambitions  was  not  so  wide  as  she  desired. 

But  in  1855  he  succeeded  to  the  dukedom,  and  in 
1858  the  Duchess  was  made  Mistress  of  the  Robes :  a 
great  post  about  the  Court.  This  was  in  Lord  Derby's 
second  administration.  There  was,  therefore,  no 
question  about  her  social  position,  nor  could  it  have 
been  long  before  her  personal  qualities  made  them- 
selves felt.  If  there  was  a  difficulty  it  was  finance  ; 
as  everybody  knew.  It  is  a  subject  on  which  people 
talk  more  freely  here  than  in  New  York.  Poverty  is 
no  reproach  ;  it  is  only  an  inconvenience,  and  nothing 
is  more  common  than  to  hear  a  woman  in  high  place 

*  July,  igii. 


LATE  DUCHESS  OF  DEVONSHIRE      39 

say  bluntly  she  cannot  "  afford  "  what  she  wishes.  I 
suppose  a  lady  of  position  in  New  York  would  perish 
sooner  than  make  such  a  confession  ;  many  such 
ladies,  if  not  all ;  and  all  delectable  in  all  other  re- 
spects ;   as  they  all  are. 

My  English  memories  do  not  go  back  to  so  early  a 
date  as  this,  so  I  will  come  down  to  a  time  of  which 
I  know  something  personally.  I  stop  only  to  set 
down  one  fact  which  she  would  forgive  no  one  for 
omitting  ;  that  she  had  three  daughters  who  became, 
the  first.  Duchess  of  Hamilton  ;  the  second.  Countess 
of  Gosford  ;  the  third.  Countess  of  Derby.  In  that 
way  was  one  of  the  supreme  ambitions  of  an  English 
mother  satisfied — she  married  her  daughters  well.  Two 
of  the  three  were  great  alliances.  One  of  them  has 
come  to  touch  us  ;  since  it  was  the  eldest  son  of 
Lady  Gosford,  Viscount  Acheson,  who  last  year 
married  Mildred,  daughter  of  Mr.  Ridgely  Carter, 
long  Secretary  of  the  American  Embassy  in  London, 
in  succession  to  Mr.  Henry  White.  Mr.  Carter  be- 
came American  Minister  to  Rumania  :  a  post  by  no 
means  adequate  to  his  abilities  and  experience.  Miss 
Carter  was  before  her  marriage  one  of  the  flowers  of 
the  American  Colony  in  London,  and  still  is  ;  regard- 
less of  the  fiction  of  law  which  makes  the  American 
wife  of  an  Englishman  herself  English. 

It  is  a  tradition  that  among  the  many  who  admired 
the  Duchess  of  Manchester  was  Mr.  Disraeli ;  a  man 
whose  admirations  were  discriminating.  The  two 
names  were  never  that  I  heard  of  otherwise  connected. 
Disraeli  was  not  a  man  to  be  permanently  attracted 
by  beauty  unless  there  was  something  more  than 
beauty.  He  required  of  a  woman  that  she  should  be 
able  to  interest  him.  Now  the  Duchess  had  a  maxim 
of  intercourse  which  ran  like  this  :   "  Listen  to  every- 


40        ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

thing  ;  answer  nothing."  Not  a  maxim  to  be  acted 
on  strictly.  It  is,  however,  true  that  for  a  woman  o£ 
gifts  so  transcendent  as  hers,  she  talked  with  reserve. 
What  she  liked  was  to  form  her  own  estimate  of  char- 
acter ;  to  weigh  social  forces ;  to  form  conclusions 
and  to  act  on  them.  Disraeli's  was  a  glance  which 
went  deeper  than  the  surface.  He,  too,  had  a  gift  of 
silence.  But  two  silences  beget  speech.  The  genius 
of  the  man  and  the  genius  of  the  woman  had  much  in 
common  :  and  though  neither  might  care  for  mere 
talk  with  an  unsympathetic  listener  they  knew  each 
other  when  they  met  ;  they  had  an  intellectual 
kinship  ;  and  they  had  each  something  to  give  in 
exchange. 

But  the  man  about  whom  her  life  revolved  was 
neither  Mr.  Disraeli  nor  her  first  husband,  the  seventh 
Duke  of  Manchester.  It  was  Lord  Hartington. 
Theirs  was  a  friendship  which  began  long  before  the 
Duke  of  Manchester  died  :  and  lasted  to  the  end.  It 
was  the  deciding  fact  in  the  lives  of  both.  The  attach- 
ment between  them  was  of  the  strongest,  and  never 
diminished.  It  was  said  that  Lord  Hartington  would 
never  marry  unless  he  could  marry  the  Duchess  of 
Manchester.  He  never  did.  As  soon  as  might  be 
after  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Manchester  Lord 
Hartington,  being  then  Duke  of  Devonshire,  took  the 
Duchess  to  wife  :   while  people  were  still  guessing. 

But  there  had  long  been  between  them  a  tie  wholly 
independent  of  mere  marriage.  By  nature  Hartington 
was  indolent ;  averse  from  politics  and  public  ailairs  ; 
without  political  ambition.  The  Duchess  used  all 
her  influence  all  the  time  to  rouse  him  from  this 
lethargy,  and  to  fill  his  mind  with  visions  of  a  great 
future  of  great  service  to  his  country.  She  succeeded, 
and,  having  succeeded,  never  allowed  him  to  relapse 


LATE  DUCHESS  OF  DEVONSHIRE      41 

into  a  mood  of  indifference.  England  owes  to  her  an 
immense  debt ;  for  the  kind  of  usefulness  there  was  in 
Hartington  belonged  to  him  alone.  Her  ambition 
was  to  see  him  Prime  Minister.  She  ought  to  have 
been,  but  I  think  was  not,  more  than  content  when, 
alone  among  all  men  like  him,  he  had  the  oppor- 
tunity twice  to  refuse,  and  did  twice  refuse,  that 
great  office.  But  no  guidance  could  have  been  more 
delicate  than  hers  ;  whether  in  his  relations  with 
great  affairs  or  in  other  matters  which  required  per- 
haps an  even  finer  touch.  In  all  these  she  had  and 
used  consummate  skill.  She  never  used  bit  or  spur. 
She  rode  with  light  hands  and  a  loose  rein.  Of  other 
attachments  she  was  never — or  never  showed  herself — 
jealous.  London,  always  cynical  in  such  matters,  used 
to  say  she  encouraged  them,  and  used  them  to  con- 
firm her  own  authority.  It  is  for  women  to  say 
whether  that  could  have  been. 

He  rewarded  her  with  a  devotion  which  knew  no 
limit.  She  was  a  little  older  than  he,  but  what  did 
that  matter  ?  He  was  from  the  beginning  quite  care- 
less how  he  showed  his  devotion  or  who  knew  it. 
Throughout  their  lives  it  was  the  same  and  shown  in 
the  same  way.  If  you  entered  a  drawing-room  where 
the  Duchess  was,  you  looked  about  for  Lord  Harting- 
ton. If  he  was  not  near  her  you  looked  at  the  door, 
and  you  would  not  look  long  before  you  saw  him  enter. 
His  greeting  to  his  hostess  accomplished,  he  hardly 
noticed  others.  He  was  quite  happy  to  stand  in  a 
throng  and  gaze  on  the  Duchess  from  a  distance. 
The  heavy  Cavendish  face  lighted  up.  With  all  his 
immobility  of  feature  you  saw  happiness  in  his  eyes. 
When  he  had  found  his  way  to  her  side,  they  might 
or  might  not  have  much  to  say  to  each  other.  But 
Bpeech    was    not    needed.      Presence    was    enough. 


42         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Affinity  is  a  worn-out  word,  but  if  ever  there  was 
an  affinity  between  a  strong  man  and  a  woman  with 
both  beauty  and  cleverness  this  was  one. 

I£  the  Duchess  was  tolerant  she  was  not  always 
tolerant.  I  knew  of  a  case.  A  much  younger  and 
therefore  lovelier  woman  was  their  guest.  It  befell 
that  this  young  woman  and  the  Duke  wandered  away 
together  one  afternoon  and  returned  after  dusk. 
Said  the  Duchess  to  the  younger  woman  : 

"  My  dear,  I'm  delighted  you  and  Hartington 
should  be  friends,  but  you  will  not  again  be  out  with 
him  so  long  or  so  late." 

.  That  is  a  good  enough  example  of  the  tone  she  took 
with  all  sorts  of  people  when  things  were  not  going  to 
her  mind.  She  was  a  law  unto  all  her  world.  A  guest 
asked  for  Monday  did  not  arrive  till  the  Thursday  : 
having  telegraphed  to  excuse  herself.  She  was  met 
by  the  Duchess  brandishing  the  telegram  : 

"  This  is  your  wire  ;  answer  prepaid.  Did  you 
think  I  was  too  poor  to  pay  for  my  own  message  ?  " 

And  for  three  days  this  temper  continued.  At  the 
end  of  the  three  days,  the  Duchess  said  : 

"  My  dear,  you  deserved  your  punishment  and  you 
have  had  it.  I  love  to  have  you  here,  but  when  you 
say  you  will  come  I  expect  you  to  come." 

After  which  all  smiles  and  sunshine. 

Implacable  she  certainly  was  ;  often  unforgiving  ; 
sometimes  vindictive.  A  lady  whose  position  entitled 
her,  you  would  have  thought,  to  be  independent, 
told  me  the  story  of  a  quarrel  between  the  Duchess 
and  herself.  The  Duchess  had  been  overbearing  and 
was  in  the  wrong,  but  my  friend  had  not  the  less 
surrendered.     I  asked : 

"  Why  did  you  give  in  ?  " 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  was  going  to  make  an  enemy 


LATE  DUCHESS  OF  DEVONSHIRE      43 

of  the  most  dangerous  woman  in  London,  and  the 
most  powerful  ?  " 

So  the  doctrine  of  worldly  prudence  prevailed. 

When  the  Duchess  gave  her  wonderful  fancy  ball 
in  1897  in  honour  of  the  Great  Queen's  second  Jubilee, 
she  asked  eight  hundred  people  and  closed  the  list. 
One  of  the  unasked  persuaded  her  Ambassador  to 
intercede  with  the  Duchess.  She  refused.  He  re- 
ported the  refusal  to  his  countrywoman  ;  who  replied  : 

"  You  must  go  back  to  the  Duchess.  If  I  am  not 
asked  to  this  ball  my  position  in  Paris,  in  St.  Peters- 
burg, in  Vienna,  will  be  ruined.  My  social  future  is 
in  your  hands." 

The  Ambassador  returned  and  renewed  his  entreaty. 

"  Why  do  you  bother  me  ?  You  know  I  never  ask 
any  one  not  on  my  original  list." 

"  Duchess,  I  have  left  Mme.  X.  in  convulsions  on 
the  floor  of  the  Embassy  drawing-room.  If  you  do 
not  send  her  a  card  I  will  not  answer  for  the  conse- 
quences." 

"  I  will  not  send  her  a  card." 

Then  a  pause  ;   then  : 

"  If  she  likes  to  come  without  a  card  she  may  come." 

And  she  came. 

This  is  not  the  Duchess's  most  amiable  side,  but 
you  must  look  at  her  on  all  sides.  She  was  never  a 
woman  to  reign  and  not  govern.  But  when  she 
chose  to  be  charming  she  could  be  more  charming 
than  anybody.  When  she  talked,  her  German  accent 
was  marked,  but  her  mind  was  English.  She  had  un- 
expected felicities  of  diction  ;  in  little  matters  and 
great.  After  an  absence  in  America  of  some  years  I 
met  her  again  at  a  friend's  house  in  London.  There 
was  a  look  on  her  face  which  I  thought  inquiring,  and 
I  said  : 


44         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

"  I  am  a  ghost." 

"  Well,  you  look  a  prosperous  ghost," 

She  loved  the  turf  and  cards,  and  loved  to  win  at 
all  games.  But  for  Hartington  she  might  have  thought 
life  only  a  game,  but  her  love  and  ambition  for  him 
gave  her  a  great  and  serious  purpose,  which  she  put 
above  everything.  After  his  death  she  clung  to  his 
memory  and  lived  in  that.  You  might,  after  that 
great  disaster,  have  expected  her  to  quote  Landor  : 

I  warmed  both  hands  against  the  fire  of  life ; 
It  sinks  and  I  am  ready  to  depart. 

But  it  may  be  doubted  whether,  even  at  seventy- 
nine,  she  was  ready  to  depart.  She  would  rather  have 
said  with  Huxley :  "  Death,  the  everlasting  extinction 
of  one's  energies  and  faculties,  is  horrible  and  in- 
credible." But  that  despairing  protest  has  never  yet 
availed. 


CHAPTER    IV 
MR.    BALFOUR 

I 

/CONCERNING  Mr.  Balfour's  resignation  of  the 
Conservative  leadership  there  are  two  or  three 
things  to  be  said  before  even  those  personal  memories 
which  are  my  real  subject.  This,  first  of  all,  that  the 
one  great  act  of  decision  in  his  public  life  is  an  act  of 
suicide.  Secondly,  that  he  has  led  the  Conservative 
Party  during  all  these  recent  crises  with  an  excess  of 
prudence  ;  led  it  with  less  courage  and  foresight  than 
were  desirable  ;  led  it  often  into  the  by-paths  of 
politics  when  a  broad,  straight  road  lay  plain  before 
him.  Nevertheless,  his  retirement,  if  it  be  indeed  a 
withdrawal  and  not  a  fausse  sortie,  is  a  calamity  the 
disastrous  consequences  of  which  are  immeasurable. 

Irresolute  as  he  has  been,  there  is  no  one  to  replace 
him.  Mr.  Bonar  Law  is  an  able  man  of  business,  with 
a  great  knowledge  of  fiscal  and  economical  questions, 
but  with  little  experience  of  Parliament  and  none  at 
all  of  leadership.  He  becomes  leader  at  a  moment 
when  all  the  resources  of  the  most  experienced 
Parliamentarian  will  be  needed  to  fight  Home  Rule 
and  other  measures  of  Revolution,  imminent  in  the 
House  of  Commons  ;  and  Mr.  Law  has  none  of  them. 
He  may  acquire  them  all,  but  not  all  at  once.  Mr. 
Balfour  has  them  all,  and  in  the  most  critical  hour  of 
his  party's  life  resigns.  He  delivers  over  his  party  and 
his  cause,  with  the  Union  of  the  three  kingdoms  at 

45 


46         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

issue.  It  is  not,  of  course,  a  betrayal,  but  it  is  a 
surrender.  Still,  any  leader  is  better  than  none,  and 
for  most  Parliamentary  purposes  Mr.  Balfour  has  no 
superior  and  no  equal.  Mr.  Asquith,  in  words  which 
do  him  honour  and  are  but  a  just  tribute  to  his  only 
rival  and  only  superior,  described  him  as  the  most 
distinguished  member  of  the  greatest  deliberative 
body  in  the  world.  If  it  is  no  longer  the  greatest 
deliberative  body  in  the  world  it  is  because  Mr. 
Asquith  has  substituted  the  gag  and  the  guillotine  for 
deliberation,  and  the  closure  stifles  debate.  Reason 
the  more,  since  the  situation  is  more  diflicult,  why 
Mr.  Balfour  should  have  stood  by  his  party.  If  ever 
he  had  had  in  him  the  real  spirit  of  leadership  this  is 
the  last  moment  he  would  have  chosen  to  desert. 
But  he  has  in  him  all  the  gifts  a  leader  ought  to  have 
except  the  gift  of  leadership. 

That  he  has  had  every  provocation  must  be  admitted, 
but  is  he  the  first  party  chief  whose  followers  have 
been  disloyal  or  mutinous  ?  His  business  was  to 
coerce  them,  to  lead  and  not  be  led,  to  sacrifice  every 
personal  feeling,  no  matter  how  just,  to  the  party 
and  the  cause. 

Mr.  Balfour  himself  put  forward  the  excuse  of 
health.  He  told  some  of  his  friends  some  months 
before  he  resigned  that  he  was  too  ill  to  go  on.  I 
should  never  dream  of  questioning  any  statement 
Mr.  Balfour  made.  Let  it  then  be  admitted  that 
health  had  something  to  do  with  his  retirement.  It 
adds  to  the  regret  which  all  but  his  opponents  feel, 
and  some  even  of  them.  But  I  suppose  it  may  still 
be  said  that  if  there  had  been  no  other  reason,  this 
alone  might  not  have  sufficed.  His  ill-health  has  been 
borne  for  years.  Alone,  it  might  have  been  borne  for 
years  to  come. 


MR.  BALFOUR  47 

But  as  I  have  begun  on  this  uncongenial  subject 
I  will  go  a  little  way  into  the  inner  history  of  it 
and  say  what  I  believe  to  be  the  true,  original,  and 
perhaps  final  cause  of  his  decision. 

A  woman  is  the  cause.  Not  in  the  usual  sense, 
but  in  the  sense  that  a  woman  has  led  the  attack 
on  him,  and  that,  but  for  her,  the  cabal  against 
Mr.  Balfour  might  never  have  grown  strong  enough 
to  drive  him  from  his  post.  No  opposition  has  been 
more  damaging  to  him  than  the  opposition  of  The 
Morning  Post,  and  The  Morning  Post  is  Lady  Bathurst. 
I  dislike  to  mention  her  name,  but  how  otherwise 
can  the  truth  be  told  ?  The  Countess  Bathurst  is 
the  daughter  of  Lord  Glenesk,  who  was  Sir  Algernon 
Borthwick  and  a  journalist  of  unexampled  genius. 
He  made  this  paper  the  great  power  it  is,  and  be- 
queathed it  to  his  daughter.  Lady  Bathurst  does 
not,  of  course,  edit  or  manage  it,  but  she  controls 
it,  and  is  absolute  master  there  when  she  chooses  to 
be.  If  any  woman  were  equal  to  such  a  duty  she 
would  be  equal.  A  woman  of  rare  qualities,  with 
a  capacity  for  great  things  which  all  men  who  know 
her  acknowledge  and  admire,  as  they  do  her  charm 
of  character.  But  she  is  a  woman,  with  a  woman's 
impulses  and  emotions,  and  with  the  readiness  of 
a  woman  to  be  governed,  and  to  govern  other  people, 
by  impulses  and  emotions  ;  and  she  intervened  in 
grave  affairs,  which  are  essentially  the  affairs  of  men 
and  not  of  women. 

There  were  other  causes  than  the  one  on  which 
I  have  dwelt.  It  is  not  necessary  to  distribute  these 
responsibilities  mathematically.  But  it  is  safe  to  say 
that  the  unrelenting  antagonism  of  a  journal  so 
powerful  as  the  one  which  Lady  Bathurst  owns  and 
sometimes  directs  wa§  enough  to  turn  the  scale. 


48         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Early  in  the  agitation  for  Tariff  Reform  she  be- 
came a  convinced  Tariff  Reformer  ;  and  convinced 
that  Tariff  Reform  was  the  one  paramount  issue 
of  politics.  Mr.  Balfour's  mind  moved  slowly  on 
that  matter  ;  or  slowly  toward  the  conversion  he 
ultimately  announced,  and  to  his  acceptance  of  this 
proposal  as  an  article  of  party  faith.  His  mind  is, 
on  most  questions,  subject  to  philosophic  doubt. 
He  was  born  a  Free  Trader.  It  is  thought  doubtful 
whether  he  ever  went  heartily  and  wholly  over  to 
the  other  doctrine.  Certain  it  is  that  he  was  long 
in  coming  about ;  he  shivered  in  the  bleak  wind  of 
fierce  controversy ;  and  if  finally  he  swung  round 
on  the  other  tack  he  laid  his  new  course  uncertainly. 
Lady  Bathurst  was  impatient ; — was  there  ever  a 
woman  who  was  not  ?  When  she  wanted  a  thing,  she 
wanted  it,  and  at  once.  The  criticisms  of  ^he  Morn- 
ing Post  on  Mr.  Balfour  were  incessant  ;  and  they 
took  the  form  of  reproaches,  sometimes  of  invective, 
and  often  of  rebuke.  It  is  a  great  party  organ  and 
was  attacking  its  own  party  leader.  But  for  its  in- 
temperate zeal  the  Tariff  Reform  controversy  need 
not  have  become  envenomed,  as  it  did,  and  the  division 
in  the  Conservative  ranks  need  not  have  yawned  so 
wide. 

But  consider  the  dates.  It  was  in  1903,  May  15, 
that  Mr.  Chamberlain  delivered  in  Birmingham  the 
great  speech  in  which  he  summoned  the  Unionist 
Party  to  declare  for  Tariff  Reform.  He  was  then  in 
a  position  of  such  authority  that  his  challenge  could 
not  be  neglected  or  declined.  At  once  the  party, 
the  whole  body  of  Conservatives,  made  answer  in 
one  way  or  another.  The  majority  accepted  Mr. 
Chamberlain  as  leader  on  that  subject,  and  leader 
on  that  subject  he  remained.    When  did  Mr.  Balfour 


MR.  BALFOUR  49 

announce  his  decision  ?  Is  the  date  known  ?  The 
dates  o£  several  speeches  could  be  given  in  which  he 
recorded  different  stages  of  the  long  process  which 
is  supposed  to  have  ended  in  his  complete  acceptance 
of  Tariff  Reform.  If  there  be  any  one  statement 
which,  taken  by  itself,  was  decisive,  how  many  years 
had  passed  before  it  was  made  ?  In  the  interval, 
down  to  1906,  the  leadership  of  the  party  had  become 
in  effect,  though  not  in  name,  dual.  Then,  unhappily, 
Mr.  Chamberlain,  from  reasons  of  health  which 
admitted  of  no  debate,  withdrew  from  public  life. 
For  five  years  Mr.  Balfour  remained  at  his  post — 
urged  on,  during  much  of  that  time,  by  his  followers 
— in  the  plenitude  of  his  Parliamentary  powers. 

Then  came  the  Parliament  Bill  and  the  momentous 
question  whether  the  Conservative  Peers  should  allow 
it  to  pass,  as  it  was  certain  to  do  in  any  case,  or  suffer 
the  Upper  House  to  be  swamped  by  Mr.  Asquith's 
creation  of  five  hundred  Radical  Peers — "  chimney- 
sweeps," as  Mr.  Churchill  hypothetically  called  them. 
Lord  Halsbury  pronounced  for  the  last  ditch  ;  which 
the  wits  called  the  first  ditch.  He  and  his  supporters, 
numbering  more  than  one  hundred  votes,  openly 
rebelled  against  Mr.  Balfour  and  Lord  Lansdowne. 
Lord  Salisbury,  Lord  Selborne,  Sir  Edward  Carson, 
Mr.  George  Wyndham,  all  bound  to  him  by  political 
and  personal  ties,  openly  defied  him.  He  is  supposed 
to  have  said  he  did  not  mind.  Is  it  conceivable  that 
he  did  not  ?  Is  it  not  more  probable  that  he  deceived 
himself  than  that  he  "  did  not  mind  "  the  defection 
of  these  and  other  pillars  of  the  party  and  his  own 
friends  ?  Whether  he  minded  it  then  or  not,  the 
mutiny  spread,  and  he  may  well  have  resented  it 
later.  The  Halsbury  Club  marked  another  deepening 
of  the  division  in  the  party.    That  club,  we  are  told, 

E 


so        ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

intended  no  disloyalty  to  Mr.  Balfour.  It  was  merely 
meant  to  oppose  his  policy,  to  take  the  control  out 
of  his  hands,  to  reduce  his  leadership  to  a  phrase. 
He  might  remain  leader  provided  they  were  not 
expected  to  follow  him.  If  Mr.  Balfour  meant  to 
resign,  then  was  the  moment,  but  he  let  it  pass.  Why 
he  has  resigned  now  it  may  be  hard  to  say,  except  that 
there  came  at  last  the  hour  when  he  could  endure  no 
longer. 

Long  before  the  Halsbury  Club  there  had  been 
criticisms  on  Mr.  Balfour's  policy  or  want  of  policy  ; 
on  his  conduct  of  the  Education  Bill  of  1902  ;  on  his 
failure  to  pass  a  proper  Trade  Union  Bill,  spite 
of  advice  ;  on  his  failure  to  bring  forward  a  scheme 
of  Redistribution  ;  on  his  neglect  of  the  ever  more 
pressing  question  of  the  Reform  of  the  House  of 
Lords  ;  on  his  disposition  to  "  let  things  slide,"  or 
to  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance.  There  was  dis- 
affection at  the  Carlton  Club  as  well  as  in  the  Halsbury 
Club.  But  to  the  Carlton  Club,  the  head-quarters 
of  his  party,  Mr.  Balfour  never  went.  His  most 
intimate  adviser,  whose  name  everybody  knows,  is 
supposed  to  have  thought  it  his  duty  to  keep  from 
the  knowledge  of  his  chief  whatever  might  be  dis- 
agreeable to  him.  He  was  shepherded  too  much. 
Something  may  be  said  for  the  Unionists  who,  having 
chosen  Mr.  Balfour  for  their  leader,  had  to  look  on 
while  so  many  of  the  functions  of  leadership  slipped 
out  of  his  hands  and  into  the  hands  of  a  man  they 
had  not  chosen.  Mr.  Jack  Sanders's  fidelity  was  not 
disputed;  it  was  his  judgment  which  was  impugned. 
He  made  access  to  Mr.  Balfour  difficult,  and  free 
communication  between  him  and  his  party  impossible. 

In  the  great  contest  over  the  Parliament  Bill  Mr. 
Balfour  described  himself  as  ever  a  House  of  Commons 


MR.  BALFOUR  51 

man.  What  he  meant  the  House  to  understand 
was  that  in  opposing  the  Bill  designed  to  convert 
the  House  of  Commons  into  a  Single  Chamber, 
he  was  not  acting  as  a  partisan  or  champion  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  He  put  the  Commons  and  their 
rights  first.  As  far  as  it  went,  that  is  a  true  account, 
but  it  is  very  far  indeed  from  being  complete,  nor 
can  70U  understand  Mr.  Balfour  if  you  regard  him 
wholly,  or  even  mainly,  as  a  Parliamentarian.  He 
will  go  down  in  history  as  a  great  member  of  Parlia- 
ment, as  Prime  Minister,  and  much  else  which  is 
purely  political.  But  there  is  a  Balfour  behind  all 
that,  of  whom  the  public  sees  little  and  knows  little  ; 
yet,  for  all  that,  the  real  Balfour.  If  you  meet  him 
you  will  have  glimpses  of  the  real  man,  or  of  one  or 
more  sides  of  him.  A  single  sentence  will  show  how 
wide  and  deep  is  the  gulf  which  divides  him  from 
politics.  I  used  once,  in  a  group  of  men  which  in- 
cluded Mr.  Balfour,  an  impatient  expression  about 
the  Psychical  Society  and  its  so-called  investigations 
into  the  nature  of  psychical  phenomena.  He  broke  in 
at  once  : 

"  I  think  your  scepticism  carries  you  too  far. 
There  is  nothing  in  political  life  as  I  know  it  which 
can  be  compared  to  the  interest,  the  profound  interest 
and  significance,  of  psychical  research." 

Yet  I  am  not  aware  that  he  has  ever  given  in  his 
adhesion  to  the  beliefs  which  that  society  was  founded 
to  establish.  It  was  simply  that  on  all  subjects,  or  on 
most,  he  has  an  open  mind  ;  and  that  to  present  to 
him  a  problem  of  any  kind  is  to  challenge  his  attention. 
And  that  of  itself  is  almost  enough  to  explain  his  de- 
fects as  leader  of  a  great  political  party.  He  shares 
with  Pascal  the  distinction  of  being  a  devout  believer, 
yet   possessed   with   an   invincible   longing   to   apply 


52         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

scientific  methods  of  inquiry  to  matters  of  faith. 
He  is  a  saint  in  the  skin  of  an  agnostic.  There  is  an 
intellectual  and  spiritual  kinship  between  him  and 
the  great  Frenchman.  Of  the  Provincial  Letters, 
he  might  have  written  the  first  four.  To  the  imagina- 
tive height,  the  spiritual  splendour  of  the  rest,  he  could 
never  have  attained.  Nor  has  he  that  genius  for  con- 
densing long  periods  of  thought  into  the  compactness 
of  an  epigram  which  makes  the  Pensees  not  merely- 
immortal,  but  the  most  fertilizing  of  all  such  col- 
lections. 

Yet,  in  a  way  and  to  a  certain  extent,  he  is  a  child 
of  Pascal  all  the  same.  If  he  has  not  Pascal's  genius — 
and  who  has  ? — he  has  the  Port  Royalist's  habit 
of  seeing  both  sides,  and  of  stating  both.  It  is  a 
useful  habit  in  the  realms  of  speculation.  It  is  almost 
fatal  in  party  politics.  On  a  party  platform  or  in  a 
House  of  Commons  debate,  as  in  a  legal  trial,  there 
is  always  some  one  else  to  present  the  other  side. 
A  Minister  or  a  leader  of  the  Opposition  who  states 
both  only  perplexes  and  dispirits  his  followers.  Let 
him  think  what  he  likes  of  the  other  side  of  a  question  ; 
he  has  no  business  to  think  aloud.  But  Mr.  Balfour 
was  always  thinking  aloud  on  his  legs.  At  times  he 
rivalled  Mr.  Gladstone  himself  in  the  art  of  applying 
metaphysics  to  politics,  and  of  qualifying  his  state- 
ments, till  they  ceased  to  be  statements,  and  became 
hypothetical  suggestions. 

During  the  debate  on  the  Parliament  Bill  Mr. 
Asquith  asked  him  across  the  table  whether,  if  or 
when  the  Conservatives  came  back  into  power, 
they  would  repeal  the  Parliament  Bill.  Peel  would 
have  said,  "  It  is  my  purpose."  Palmerston  would 
have  answered  in  a  word,  "  Yes."  Disraeli  would 
have   uttered   a   flashing  sentence  :   "  We  exist   only 


MR.  BALFOUR  53 

for  that."  Even  Mr.  Gladstone  might  have  declared 
that  the  logic  of  circumstances  would  impose  on  him 
that  high  duty.  But  Mr.  Balfour  began  to  distinguish. 
There  were  clauses  which  would  have  to  be  modified. 
Others,  no  doubt,  must  be  expunged.  If  any  part 
of  the  Act  remained  on  the  statute  book  it  would  not 
be  the  most  mischievous  part.  And  so  on.  His 
followers  sat  aghast.  The  ground  on  which  they 
were  fighting  the  Bill  as  a  measure  of  revolution  was 
slipping  from  under  them  as  Mr.  Balfour  went  on 
refining.  If  he  had  met  the  challenge  with  a  "  Yes, 
certainly  we  will,"  he  might  have  remained  leader 
of  the  party,  and  the  blue  sky  that  bends  over  England 
would  have  been  a  good  deal  bluer  than  it  is  to- 
day. 


II 

I  hope  it  may  still  interest  Americans  to  know  that 
Mr.  Balfour  has  been  a  steadfast  friend  of  this  country 
and  people.  He  has  been  more  than  a  steadfast  friend. 
He  had,  before  he  was  Prime  Minister,  and  while  he 
was  Prime  Minister,  and  has  had  ever  since,  a  states- 
man's appreciation  of  the  usefulness  of  friendship 
to  both  countries.  It  was  while  he  governed  the 
British  Empire  that  most  of  the  most  dangerous 
disputes  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United 
States  came  up  for  settlement,  and  were  settled. 
Venezuela  had  been  disposed  of  by  Lord  Salisbury 
and  Mr.  Olney,  but  there  remained  the  Bering 
fisheries,  the  Alaska  boundary,  and  others,  which, 
if  less  important,  were  almost  as  menacing.  I  know 
that  Air.  Balfour  was  for  the  pacific  adjustment  of 
all  these,  and  used  to  that  end  all  his  authority  as 
Prime  Minister.     He  said  : 


54        ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

"  The  advantages  of  a  victory  in  each  one,  or  in 
all  these,  controversies,  would  be  as  nothing  in  com- 
parison to  the  advantages  of  a  permanent  good  under- 
standing with  the  United  States." 

What  he  did  as  Prime  Minister  is  better  evidence 
even  than  what  he  said.  But  I  will  quote  one  other 
testimony.  A  well-known  Unionist  M.P.  went  to 
see  him  during  one  of  these  crises  to  beg  him  to 
come  to  terms  with  the  United  States.  Mr.  Balfour 
got  out  of  his  chair  and  said  : 

"  I  am  as  anxious  for  it  as  you  are.  It  is  the  thing 
I  care  most  about." 

He  was  in  truth  genuinely  devoted  to  a  good  under- 
standing with  the  United  States. 

He  was  for  arbitration  where  arbitration  was 
possible  ;  that  is,  where  the  United  States  Senate 
could  be  induced  to  agree  to  a  treaty  of  arbitration. 
If  there  had  to  be  negotiation,  he  was  for  friendly 
negotiation,  and  for  reasonable  concessions  or  com- 
promise, as  every  reasonable  man  is,  well  knowing 
that  in  few  international  disagreements  is  the  right 
all  on  one  side.  On  this  view  he  acted  consistently 
throughout.  He  even  yielded  to  our  proposal  to 
substitute  for  arbitration  a  commission  of  six  for  the 
delimitation  of  the  Alaska  boundary  ;  nor  did  he  object 
when,  by  way  of  fulfilling  our  pledge  to  appoint  im- 
partial commissioners,  we  named  Senator  Lodge  and 
Mr.  Turner.  I  dwell  a  little  on  this  because  I  think 
we  have  hardly  done  full  justice  to  Mr.  Balfour's 
attitude  in  Anglo-American  disputes ;  nor  to  Mr. 
Balfour  himself  for  his  consistent  good -will  to  the 
United  States  and  his  readiness  to  make  sacrifices 
for  the  sake  of  Anglo-American  harmony.  He  in- 
herited this  tradition  of  friendship  from  Lord  Salis- 
bury :  from  the  later  Lord  Salisbury,  who  was  true 


MR.  BALFOUR  55 

to  it  during  all  his  last  Premiership.  To  that  great 
Prime  Minister  also  we  have  yet  to  acknowledge 
our  obligations  in  respect  of  Venezuela  and  other 
matters. 

One  other  point,  briefly.  Mr.  Balfour  is  the  one 
Chief  Secretary  of  Ireland  who  governed  that  un- 
governable island.  Of  him  as  the  executive  officer 
in  whose  hands  rested  the  cause  of  peace,  of  law,  of 
order,  it  is  to  be  said  that  he  did  the  work  he  was 
appointed  to  do  ;  and  that  there,  in  the  most  trying 
post  which  any  man  can  anywhere  hold,  he  showed 
great  administrative  qualities  and  great  courage  as 
well.  To  him  also  was  due  the  new  policy  in  respect 
of  land  which  transformed  the  agrarian  conditions, 
and  gave  prosperity  to  half,  or  more  than  half  the 
island.  The  two  together  make  a  record.  Perhaps 
that  also  may  conciliate  American,  if  not  Irish- 
American,  good-will. 

The  Mr.  Balfour  of  private  life  is  not,  I  think, 
very  well  known  to  his  own  people  ;  and  naturally 
still  less  well  to  us.  They  think  of  him  as  a  being 
somewhat  remote  from  those  personal  and  domestic 
sympathies  on  which,  in  all  their  public  servants, 
from  King  and  Queen  through  all  social  levels, 
they  set  a  high  value.  They  know  that  Mr.  Balfour 
is  not  married.  They  do  not  know  that  his  own  family 
have  been  and  are  to  him  in  a  singularly  close  and 
beautiful  relation.  When  he  is  at  his  place  in  Scot- 
land, Whittingehame  (pronounced  Whittengem),  he 
is  surrounded  by  them.  He  has  married  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  they  and  their  many  children  fill  the 
great  house.  They  are  almost  as  much  at  home 
there  as  he  is,  and  take  up  a  great  deal  more  room. 
There  is,  to  be  sure,  a  study  which  is  his  and  his 
only,   where   he   does   alone   his   thinking   and   other 


Se         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

kinds  of  work,  and  into  which  no  one  enters  unless 
summoned.  I  don't  wish  to  linger  on  private  matters, 
but  if  you  will  ask  anybody  who  knows  the  facts 
you  will  easily  learn  how  broad  is  his  kindliness  of 
nature,  how  genuine  are  his  affections,  how  far- 
reaching  is  his  charity,  and  how  he  is  loved  by  his 
family,  his  friends,  his  neighbours,  and  his  associates 
in  public  life. 

You  have  heard,  no  doubt,  of  his  charm  of  manner 
and  character.  No  one  who  meets  him  is  insensible 
to  that,  or  fails  to  see  that  he  has  a  true  sweetness 
of  nature.  But  we  seem  to  have  got  into  a  habit 
of  judging  a  man  by  trivialities,  and  when  Mr.  Balfour 
is  discussed  he  is  discussed  as  a  devotee  of  a  particular 
game  on  which  all  the  world  has  gone  mad.  With 
the  man  himself  you  may  talk  long  and  never  hear 
it  mentioned.  But  you  will  hear  of  books  and  music 
and  pictures,  and,  if  you  are  supposed  to  be  interested 
in  such  matters,  of  religious  beliefs  and  of  those 
psychical  mysteries  to  which  I  referred  in  a  previous 
letter,  and  of  others.  If  you  are  a  friend,  he  may  talk 
to  you  of  friendships,  but  in  social  gossip  he  has 
little  interest,  and  of  scandal  an  abhorrence.  He  has 
never  sought  to  make  his  house  in  Carlton  Gardens 
a  social  head-quarters :  contenting  himself  with  giving 
two  or  three  large  dinners,  mostly  political,  during 
the  season.  That  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  he  does 
not  care  to  use  social  influences  for  the  purposes  of 
public  life,  as  Lord  Palmerston  did,  as  his  uncle, 
Lord  Salisbury,  did,  as  Lord  Rosebery  always  has, 
and  many  another  political  chief.  It  has  been  thought 
that  as  leader,  and  in  his  own  interest  as  leader,  as 
well  as  in  the  interest  of  his  party,  he  might  do  more. 
His  London  house  is  adequate  to  hospitalities  on  a 
splendid  scale.    In  his  drawing-room  hang  the  famous 


MR.   BALFOUR  57 

canvases  by  Burne-Jones,  as  good  examples  as  exist, 
or  perhaps  the  best,  of  that  artist's  conception  of 
nude  beauty  as  seen  in  the  natural  woman,  and  yet 
imaginatively  treated.  But  Burne-Jones  and  the 
British  Philistine  have  never  quite  understood  each 
other,  and  Mr.  Balfour  may  not  care  to  expose  a 
master  whom  he  loves  to  the  criticism  of  the  man  in 
the  street. 

It  may  be  said  of  Mr.  Balfour  that  he  has  a  mind 
which  moves  automatically.  An  incessant  activity 
is  its  normal  natural  state.  He  is  always  ready. 
He  said  once  of  himself  that  when  he  went  down  to 
the  House  neither  expecting  nor  prepared  to  take 
part  in  a  debate,  he  made  his  best  speeches.  Partly, 
no  doubt,  because  no  subject  is  likely  to  come  up  in 
Parliament  which  he  has  not  long  since  studied  ; 
and  partly  because,  whether  in  speaking  or  writing, 
a  man  is  apt  to  do  his  best  under  pressure.  He  must 
speak,  and  he  must  not  fall  below  his  reputation,  nor 
below  the  occasion.  If  you  want  to  know  what  kind 
of  stuff  there  is  in  a  man,  take  him  by  surprise,  said 
Emerson.  Whether  taken  by  surprise  or  not,  Mr. 
Balfour  alone  among  the  men  of  to-day  lifts  debate 
in  the  House  to  a  higher  level.  Mr.  Gladstone  did 
that,  and  so,  while  he  was  speaking,  did  Mr.  Bright, 
but  both  Mr.  Gladstone  and,  in  a  less  degree,  Mr. 
Balfour  maintained  this  high  level.  The  House 
expects  its  members  to  conform,  to  take  their  note 
from  the  general  tone  of  the  House.  But  Mr.  Glad- 
stone created  the  atmosphere  in  which  he  moved 
and  which  the  House  breathed.  You  may  still, 
if  you  are  there  on  a  great  night  and  Mr.  Balfour  is 
up,  see  something  of  the  same  magical  effect. 

Perhaps  he  expects  from  others  what  he  only 
is  capable  of — the  power  of  an  instant  response  to 


58         ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

a  demand,  of  instant  brain-work  at  full  speed  ahead. 
I  will  venture  on  one  illustration.  It  was  after  dinner 
at  Wynyard  Park,  the  house  filled  with  people,  most 
of  them  celebrities.  I  was  standing  with  Mr.  Balfour, 
British  fashion,  on  the  hearthrug  before  a  lighted 
fire.  He  had  heard  I  meant  to  write  a  book,  a  com- 
parative study  of  English  and  American  politics,  and 
other  matters,  and  asked  some  questions.  Presently 
he  said  : 

"  Well,  you  have  had  great  opportunities.  You 
ought  to  write  such  a  book.    Have  you  begun  it  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then  go  upstairs  now  and  write  the  first  chapter." 

Alas  !  it  was  a  counsel  of  perfection.  It  was  what 
he  himself  would  have  done.  But  Lady  Londonderry 
presented  herself  at  that  moment  and  required  us 
to  make  up  a  bridge  table,  and  I  did  not  write  my 
first  chapter  that  night  ;  nor  have  I  written  it  since. 

Whether  from  his  philosophical  studies  or  other- 
wise, he  has  mastered  and  applied  the  doctrine  which 
Taine  said  was  the  result  and  root  of  all  philosophy  : 
"  Take  things  as  they  come."  Many  years  ago  there 
was  a  story  that  he  was  ruined.  Perhaps  he  used  that 
ominous  word  himself  ;  at  any  rate,  he  did  say  : 

"  They  tell  me  I  am  ruined.  It  may  be  so,  but 
I  do  not  find  that  it  makes  any  difference  in  my 
life.  I  still  have  all  that  I  ever  cared  for  ;  all  that 
I  need  for  the  convenience  and  comfort  of  existence. 
Nay,  I  still  have  my  friends.    How  can  I  be  ruined  ?  " 

And  in  truth  he  was  not  ruined.  It  is  not  our 
business,  but  I  believe  the  story  grew  out  of  a  large 
purchase  of  land  adjoining  the  Whittingehame  estate, 
just  before  the  drop  came  in  land  values,  and  this 
new  property  did  not  at  once  seem  a  good  invest- 
ment. 


MR.  BALFOUR  59 

For  whatever  reason,  he  was  long  known  as  Prince 
Arthur.  Mr.  Lucy,  now  Sir  Henry  Lucy,  perhaps 
gave  him  that  name  ;  at  any  rate,  he  used  it  weekly 
in  his  sparkling  "  Essence  of  Parliament  "  in  Punch. 
It  was  supposed  to  give  offence  in  certain  quarters, 
but  there  was,  and  is,  in  him  and  in  his  bearing, 
and  in  his  remoteness  from  all  that  is  ordinary  or 
merely  conventional,  something  that  may  as  well 
be  called  princely  as  anything  else. 

I  do  not  try  to  draw  a  picture  of  Mr.  Balfour. 
His  face,  I  presume,  is  familiar  to  Americans  through 
the  photographs  which  now  daily  adorn  the  Press. 
But  I  have  never  seen  a  photograph  of  him  which 
fully  renders  the  benignity  of  his  expression.  Still 
less  can  any  photograph  reproduce  for  us  the  luminous 
beauty  of  his  eyes.  In  repose  the  beauty  of  them  is 
almost  feminine.  When  he  is  on  his  feet  in  the 
House  this  softness  or  sweetness  disappears  ;  the  eyes 
flash  and  burn  ;  the  fire  in  them  is  deep,  and  in  anger 
or  in  a  high  mood  their  gentleness  turns  to  strength, 
sometimes  to  passion.  The  voice  is  melodious  when 
not  strained,  and  has  varied  modulations.  What 
we  in  America  humorously  call  the  English  accent 
is  not  to  be  expected  from  a  Scot,  yet  neither  has  he 
the  method  of  speech  that  prevails  beyond  the 
Border.  If  the  features  are  not  commanding,  the 
whole  figure  of  the  man  is  instinct  with  dignity, 
and  on  a  platform  he  dominates  when  he  does  not 
care  to  coax.  Not  much  gesture.  In  caricatures 
you  mostly  see  him  with  his  hands  on  the  lapels  of 
his  coat  ;  which  is  hardly  a  gesture,  nor  does  he  seem 
to  have  studied  the  art  of  delivery  as  it  is  understood 
on  the  stage. 

What  does  all  that  matter  ?  He  is  an  orator. 
Perhaps  he  and  Lord  Rosebcry  are  the  last  of  the 


6o         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

orators,  and  both  are  debaters  of  resource.  If  we 
put  Lord  Rosebery  first  as  orator,  Mr.  Balfour  is 
unmatched  in  debate.  He  learnt  in  the  best  school, 
indeed  the  only  school  in  England,  the  House  of 
Commons,  which  Lord  Rosebery,  to  his  lasting  regret, 
never  had  an  opportunity  to  enter.  A  parallel  be- 
tween these  two  might  be  drawn  to  cover  many 
other  points  of  likeness  and  of  unlikeness,  but  there 
is  no  room,  and  no  Plutarch  to  do  it.  Of  Mr.  Balfour 
by  himself  there  is  still  much  to  say,  and  this,  at  any 
rate,  must  be  said,  that  whatever  the  imperfections 
of  his  leadership  or  the  untimeliness  of  his  resignation, 
no  man  ever  doubted  the  singleness  or  sincerity  of 
his  devotion  to  public  duty.  It  has  carried  him  far 
from  the  flower-strewn  fields  in  which  he  would  have 
liked  best  to  wander,  and  there  is  in  his  whole  career 
an  unselfish  sacrifice  of  his  tastes  and  preferences  to 
the  demands  not  of  Parliament  only,  but  of  Empire. 


CHAPTER  V 

SIR    WILLIAM    HARCOURT— DOMESTIC   AND 
POLITICAL    RECOLLECTIONS 

IV/rR.  LEWIS  HARCOURT'S  long-delayed  pro- 
motion  in  Cabinet  and  political  rank  has  come 
at  a  critical  moment.*  But  the  first  thing  it  recalls 
is  the  memory  of  his  father,  Sir  William  Harcourt. 
One  cannot  but  think  how  Sir  William  would  have 
rejoiced  in  his  son's  success.  Never,  I  should  think, 
had  there  been  a  more  beautiful  relation  of  father  and 
son  than  between  these  two.  The  affection  of  each 
for  the  other  was  deep  ;  their  devotion  without  stint 
or  limit.  They  were  much  more  together  than  is 
usual.  The  son  was  sent  to  Eton,  but  never  to  a 
university.  Upon  his  return  from  Eton  he  gave  up 
his  life  to  his  father  ;  became  his  private  secretary  ; 
lived  with  him  and  for  him.  The  father,  in  turn, 
taught  the  boy  politics,  statesmanship,  and  the  world. 
There  could  have  been  no  more  competent  master. 
Said  the  father  : 

"  I  can  never  repay  Lulu  for  what  he  has  done. 
He  has  done  everything.  He  has  sacrificed  everything  ; 
at  any  rate,  he  has  postponed  his  entrance  into  public 
life  till  much  later  than  he  ought  ;  and  adjourned 
his  chances  for  distinction.  All  this  and  much  more 
he  has  done  that  he  might  be  of  use  to  me." 

This  was  said  at  Malwood  in   1899.     I  had  been 

*  December,  1910. 
61 


62         ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

asked  to  Malwood  for  a  short  visit.  The  day  before  I 
was  to  have  gone  came  a  telegram  putting  me  off 
till  the  next  week.    When  I  arrived  Sir  William  said  : 

"  You  have  heard  of  Lulu's  engagement,  and  you 
can  guess  why  we  asked  you  to  come  later." 

And  after  some  other  explanation  came  the  sen- 
tences above  quoted.  They  show  you  the  other  side 
of  a  man  who  has  been  thought  in  public  a  little 
austere,  peremptory,  and  masterful.  The  true  Har- 
court  was  kind-hearted  and  affectionate  ;  generous  in 
character,  with  a  strong  nature  capable  of  being 
strongly  moved. 

Five  years  before  this  he  had  been  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer  in  Mr.  Gladstone's  fourth  and  last 
Ministry,  and  had  brought  in  the  Death  Duties 
Budget  which  had  revolutionized  English  finance  and 
some  other  things.  Mr.  Lloyd  George's  Budget  of 
last  year  is  but  the  logical  and  inevitable  sequel  of 
Sir  William  Harcourt's  in  1894.  The  day  after  this 
exploit  I  met  Sir  William  at  lunch.  He  called  to  me 
from  the  other  end  of  the  table  : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  my  Budget  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  had  rather  not  tell  you." 

*'  Nonsense.  Can't  you  say  whether  you  think  it 
good  or  bad  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  you  will  have  it,  I  think  it  a  brigand's 
Budget." 

I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  have  said  it,  but  I  thought 
then,  as  I  think  now,  that  it  was  the  dividing  line 
between  the  Old  and  the  New.  He  had  broken  with 
the  traditions  of  the  Treasury.  He  was  taxing  Capital 
instead  of  Income.  His  new  finance  was  political,  and 
something  worse  than  political.  He  had  adopted  the 
doctrine  of  ransom  which  Mr.  Chamberlain  had  first 
proclaimed  and  then  renounced — that  property  must 


SIR  WILLIAM  HARCOURT  63 

pay  a  ransom  in  return  for  the  protection  of  the  State. 
He  levied  a  fine  upon  the  transmission  of  wealth  from 
father  to  son.  He  appealed  to  class  jealousies  and 
hatreds.  He  invited  the  poor  to  transfer  to  the 
shoulders  of  the  rich  a  great  burden  of  taxation.  He 
asked  the  working  classes  to  understand  that  they  in 
future  were  to  pay  less  than  their  share,  and  the  rich 
— whom  Mr.  Lloyd  George  now  calls  the  idle  rich — 
to  pay  more  than  their  share.  At  the  bottom  of  it  all 
lay  a  motive  of  politics.  He  wanted  the  votes  of 
labour,  skilled  and  unskilled,  and  believed  they  were 
to  be  had  in  this  way.  And  that  is  why  I  called  it  a 
brigand's  Budget. 

The  phrase  seemed  a  little  abrupt  and  there  was  a 
slight  pause.    Then  Sir  William  said  : 

"  So  that  is  what  you  think.  Well,  you  may  like 
to  know  that  both  Sir  Isaac  Holden  and  Lord  Roths- 
child have  been  to  see  me  this  morning,  and  both 
approve  of  my  Budget." 

As  these  were  two  of  the  richest  men  in  England, 
the  retort  told.  What  Sir  Isaac  Holden  thought  I 
never  knew,  but  I  saw  Lord  Rothschild  next  day,  and, 
having  Sir  William's  permission,  told  him  what  had 
been  said.    He  answered  : 

"  Oh,  no.  Harcourt  misunderstood  me.  I  told  him 
there  was  one  provision  of  his  Budget,  touching  the 
method  of  valuing  and  taxing  certain  properties  after 
death,  which  I  approved.  But  I  never  said  I  approved 
the  Death  Duties,  for  I  do  not." 

Some  years  after  that  I  was  in  Wiltshire,  and  this 
question  of  Death  Duties  came  up.  Indeed,  it  is 
always  coming  up.  It  never  rests.  It  was  said  long 
ago  that  revolutions  never  go  backward.  It  happened 
that  three  great  properties  lying  close  to  each  other 
in  Wiltshire  had  lately  passed  by  death  :    Longleat, 


64        ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

belonging  to  the  Marquis  of  Bath  ;  Wilton,  the  Earl 
of  Pembroke's,  and  Longford,  owned  by  the  Earl  of 
Radnor.  Lord  Radnor  had  twenty-five  thousand 
acres,  Lord  Bath  fifty-six  thousand,  and  Lord  Pem- 
broke sixty  thousand.  They  are  all  Conservatives. 
I  asked  one  of  them  what  the  effect  of  the  Death 
Duties  had  been.     He  gave  a  very  deliberate  answer  : 

"  The  effect  has  been  to  cripple  the  estate  and  its 
present  owner.  I  have  had  to  dismiss  a  large  number 
of  gardeners,  gamekeepers,  labourers,  and  others 
employed  in  one  way  or  another  on  the  estate.  I  have 
had  to  cut  down  my  subscriptions  to  charities.  I  have 
had  to  reduce  the  amount  of  my  tradesmen's  bills.  I 
have  retrenched  in  every  possible  way  to  make  two 
ends  meet,  and  they  don't  meet.  If  I  hadn't  property 
elsewhere  I  could  not  keep  this  house  open. 

"  If  you  will  ask  the  men  whom  you  meet  as  you 
walk  about,  gardeners,  hedgers,  ditchers,  all  kinds  of 
agricultural  hands,  carpenters,  blacksmiths,  no  matter 
who,  you  will  soon  find  what  they  think  of  the  Death 
Duties.  They  have  all  found  out  that  though  I  pay 
the  duties  in  the  first  instance  the  cost  and  burden  of 
them  fall  in  a  measure  on  all  those  who  are  in  any  way 
dependent  on  me.  If  you  will  put  the  same  questions 
on  the  other  two  estates  about  which  you  know,  you 
will  be  told  the  same  thing." 

In  other  words,  Sir  William  Harcourt's  expectation 
that  the  Death  Duties  would  bring  in  a  political  profit 
to  the  party  which  levied  them  has  been,  in  these 
three  capital  instances,  disappointed.  The  political 
result  is  startling.  Wiltshire,  formerly  divided,  sent 
to  the  present  House  of  Commons  an  unbroken  dele- 
gation of  Unionists  and  Conservatives  ;  or  perhaps 
broken  by  one. 

It  is  the  more  remarkable  because  the  Conservatives 


SIR  WILLIAM  HARCOURT  65 

never  took  up  the  challenge  Sir  William  threw  down. 
Mr.  Balfour,  then  leader  of  the  Opposition,  speaking 
the  same  night,  guarded  himself  against  the  supposition 
that  he  opposed  Death  Duties  in  principle.  On  him 
as  well  as  on  his  Liberal  opponents  lay  the  party  obliga- 
tion to  appeal,  in  one  way  or  another,  to  the  majority 
of  the  electorate.  He  has  never  proposed  to  repeal 
them.  It  would  not  have  been  necessary  to  repeal 
them,  for  the  Budget  is  a  yearly  measure,  and  when  the 
Conservatives  came  into  power,  in  1895,  they  had  only 
to  refrain  from  re-enacting  these  duties  and  they 
were  dead.  But  the  Death  Duties  formed  part  of 
every  Conservative  Budget  while  the  Conservatives 
were  in  power,  as  well  as  of  every  Liberal  Budget 
while  the  Liberals  were  in  power.  They  have  come 
to  stay.  Neither  party  dares  drop  them.  It  is  a  rule 
or  tradition  that  a  duty  once  imposed  remains  ;  or 
remains  so  long  as  there  is  need  of  the  money  it  pro- 
duces. The  lesson  of  Wiltshire  is  lost  upon  Liberals 
and  Conservatives  alike. 

There  were  days — I  mean  from  1894  onward — 
when  the  Liberal  Party  was  torn  with  the  dissensions 
between  Sir  William  and  Lord  Rosebery.  I  am  not 
going  into  that  unhappy  dispute  except  so  far  as  to 
say  that  Sir  William  thought  himself  entitled  by 
length  of  service  and  ability  to  be  Prime  Minister. 
So  he  was,  but  not  by  the  following  he  had  attached 
to  himself.  If  the  Queen  had  asked  Sir  William  in 
1 894  to  be  Prime  Minister  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose 
he  could  have  formed  a  Government.  Yet  he  was  so 
powerful  in  the  House  of  Commons,  which  he  led, 
that  it  rested  with  him  to  give  Lord  Rosebery  an 
efficient  support  ;  or  to  withhold  it.  Lord  Rose- 
bery's  friends  thought  this  efficient  support  inefficient  ; 
thought    it   grudgingly   given  ;     and   there   grew   up 


66        ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

between  the  two  men  an  estrangement  of  which  the 
consequences  were  injurious  and  even  disastrous  to  the 
party.  It  was  visible  in  private  as  well  as  in  public. 
Years  after,  in  1899,  I  was  at  Dalmeny,  and  the  day  I 
left  one  of  the  younger  members  of  the  household 
asked  me  : 

"  Where  are  you  going  from  here  ?  " 

"  To  Malwood." 

With  the  grave  ironical  humour  characteristic  of 
the  speaker  came  the  answer  : 

"  I  call  it  indecent." 

But  Malwood  was  a  very  pleasant  place  to  go  to. 
Not  a  great  property.  Sir  William  had  bought  ten 
or  twelve  acres  in  the  New  Forest  and  had  built 
himself  a  good  and  interesting  house,  and  there  was 
content  to  live.  It  was  much  later  that  he  came  un- 
expectedly, by  the  death  of  the  direct  heir,  into 
Nuneham,  a  fine  estate  near  Oxford.  At  Malwood 
everything  but  the  trees  and  the  soil  and  the  heavens 
above  was  new.  He  was  not  often  suspected  of  senti- 
ment by  those  who  knew  him  as  a  Parliamentary 
gladiator  ;  matching  himself  from  time  to  time 
against  Disraeli  and  against  Gladstone,  and  coming  out 
of  these  encounters,  whether  victorious  or  beaten, 
with  honour.  He  was  ever  a  fighter.  But  he  had  a 
warm  heart  for  his  friends,  and  there  was  a  Garden 
of  Friends  near  the  house,  in  which  each  plant  or 
shrub  had  been  given  by  a  friend,  and  served  as  a 
memento,  an  inscription  on  each.  A  pleasant  notion, 
with  perhaps  an  Elizabethan  air,  and  pleasantly 
carried  out. 

There  were  giants  in  those  days,  and  Sir  William 
Harcourt  was  one  of  them.  A  giant  in  stature  and 
physical  bulk,  the  head  powerful,  and  carried  high, 
perhaps    haughtily ;     the    features    carved    with    an 


SIR  WILLIAM  HARCOURT  67 

heroic  touch.  He  was  a  force  ;  not  in  Parliament 
only,  but  in  the  world,  in  the  service  of  the  law,  and 
even  in  journalism.  I  believe  his  real  ambition  was 
to  be  Lord  High  Chancellor.  If  there  was  any  ques- 
tion of  his  knowledge  of  the  law,  that  would  not  have 
stood  in  his  way.  He  certainly  knew  as  much  law  as 
Lord  Brougham,  of  whom  Lord  Lyndhurst  said  that 
if  he  only  knew  a  little  law  he  would  know  a  little  of 
everything.  Sir  William  was,  in  truth,  a  jurist  ;  and 
to  be  a  jurist  is  more  than  to  be  a  lawyer.  He  had  a 
mind  saturated  with  the  principles  of  jurisprudence. 

He  had  been  at  the  Parliamentary  Bar  and  gave 
up  an  income  of  ^12,000  a  year  to  go  into  politics. 
On  the  Woolsack  he  might,  at  a  pinch,  have  done  as 
Disraeli  sometimes  did  when  he  came  late  and  un- 
prepared into  a  debate  which  he  had  to  close — pick 
up  the  facts  from  the  speeches.  But  Sir  William  would 
soon  have  mastered  anything  to  which  he  gave  his 
mind  ;  as  he  did  finance  when  he  became  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer.  There  was  no  more  adroit  debater  ; 
none  more  dangerous.  And,  on  the  whole,  there  was 
no  figure  in  the  public  life  of  his  time,  Disraeli  and 
Gladstone  excepted,  which  more  attracted  the  eyes 
of  men  than  his.  They  said,  or  perhaps  he  said,  that 
Plantagenet  blood  ran  in  his  veins.  I  know  not,  but 
there  was  in  him  beyond  dispute  the  kingly  spirit  of 
that  great  line  of  Kings. 


CHAPTER   VI 

LORD    ROSEBERY— A    PERSONAL   VIEW   OF   AN 
ENGLISH   STATESMAN 

TN  what  I  have  written  before  now  concerning 
Lord  Rosebery  I  have  written  with  reserve  ;  nor 
can  I  now  depart  from  that  reserve.  But  I  suppose  I 
may  say,  in  explanation  of  what  I  write  and  do  not 
write,  that  my  obligations  to  him  are  of  longer  standing 
and  are  greater  than  to  any  other  Englishman.  I  owed 
to  him  my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Gladstone  and  the 
many  days  spent  in  the  great  Minister's  company  in 
London,  at  the  Durdans,  at  Mentmore,  at  Dalmeny 
House,  and  elsewhere.  I  owe  to  him  many  other 
relations  with  other  men  and  a  great  deal  else  of  what 
has  been  most  delightful  in  all  the  years  I  have  spent 
in  England.  These  kindnesses  cover  a  period  of  more 
than  thirty  years.  When  at  the  Durdans  some  months 
ago  I  looked  in  the  visitors'  book  for  the  date  of  my 
first  visit.  It  was  in  1880  and  that  was  not  the  be- 
ginning. 

I  forget  whether  I  have  ever  said  how  I  first  came 
to  know  Lord  Rosebery.  It  does  not  much  matter 
whether  I  have  told  the  story  or  not,  for  if  I  have  for- 
gotten, whom  it  most  concerns,  nobody  else  will 
remember.  It  is,  at  any  rate,  an  illustration  of  the 
easy  way  in  which  such  things  are  done  here,  and 
would  not  be  so  easily  or  often  done  in  New  York. 

It  was  Mr.  Frank  Lawley  to  whom  I  owe  my  intro- 
duction to   Lord   Rosebery.     Mr.   Lawley  had   been 

68 


LORD  ROSEBERY  69 

Mr.  Gladstone's  private  secretary,  had  been  much  on 
the  Turf,  of  which  he  had  a  great  knowledge,  had  a 
good  position  by  birth,  and  was  a  leader  writer  on 
The  Daily  Telegraph.  His  acquaintance  was  a  large 
one  and  I  imagine  he  had  had  Turf  relations  of  some 
sort  with  Lord  Rosebery,  about  whom  there  was  ever 
a  group  of  men  who  found  means  to  be  serviceable 
to  him.  Frank  Lawley,  in  any  case,  was  a  man  of  the 
world,  and  knew  the  ways  of  this  English  world, 
which,  it  is  ever  to  be  borne  in  mind,  take  a  great 
deal  of  knowing.  He  had  a  real  kindness  of  nature  and 
was  always  ready  to  do  a  good  turn  to  any  one  whom 
he  liked.  We  had  only  a  casual  acquaintance  and 
hardly  an  interest  or  idea  in  common,  but  he  was 
none  the  less  ready  to  put  his  gifts  of  good  nature  at 
my  disposal.  As  we  were  talking  one  day.  Lord  Rose- 
bery's  name  was  mentioned  and  Lawley  said  : 

"  Of  course  you  know  Rosebery  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  But  you  don't  take  the  pains  about  such  matters 
you  should.  Rosebery  is  becoming  every  day  a  greater 
figure,  and,  in  your  position  as  journalist,  more  im- 
portant to  you.  You  ought  to  know  him.  I  will  see 
what  I  can  arrange." 

The  next  day  came  a  note  from  Lawley  : 

"  I  am  commissioned  by  Lord  Rosebery  to  say  that 
he  hopes,  if  you  have  nothing  better  to  do,  you  will 
dine  with  him  to-morrow  night  at  8.30.  Mind  you 
do." 

That  was  all — not  a  word  from  Lord  Rosebery 
himself,  except  this  message  through  Lawley.  What 
Lawley  had  told  him  I  never  knew.  Lord  Rosebery 
lived  at  that  time — it  was  in  1878 — at  No.  107 
Piccadilly,  the  house  which  had  formerly  belonged 
to  Baron  Meyer  de  Rothschild,  and  had  descended 


70        ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

to  his  daughter  Hannah,  whom  Lord  Rosebery  had 
married  in  that  year.  It  was  afterwards  sold  to  the 
Savile  Club,  and  by  that  unusual  club  is  still  occupied. 
A  house  very  like  many  others  in  that  part  of  London, 
with  an  outlook  across  Piccadilly  upon  Green  Park  ; 
an  enchanting  piece  of  landscape  in  the  heart  of  the 
West  End  of  London.  Baron  Meyer  seems  to  have 
found  the  house  ample  for  his  tastes.  It  was  not  till 
he  built  Mentmore,  in  1851,  that  his  aptitude  for 
great  splendour  became  evident,  and  for  a  great  estate 
in  the  country,  in  the  loveliest  part  of  Buckingham- 
shire. 

Mr.  Lawley  was  to  have  been  at  this  dinner,  but 
had  been  called  away,  and  of  the  three  persons  pre- 
sent there  was  not  one  I  had  ever  seen  before.  Lord 
Rosebery's  greeting  was  that  of  a  host  ;  cordial  and 
open  and  unceremonious,  ceremony  being  a  thing 
which  the  English  prefer  to  reserve  for  great  occasions. 
A  host  and  his  guest  cannot  be  strangers,  and  a  dinner 
of  four  can  hardly  be  ceremonious  ;  or  would  be  very 
stiff  if  it  were.  But  a  small  dinner,  where  the  talk 
necessarily  includes  everybody,  is  either  a  great  success 
or  a  great  failure.  It  was  not  the  latter.  Lord  Rose- 
bery's conversational  gifts  are,  on  the  whole,  unrivalled. 
They  were  not  then,  perhaps,  quite  what  they  became 
later,  but  they  were  of  a  kind  rare  in  all  countries  and 
in  England  unique.  His  talk  had,  as  he  himself  had, 
both  charm  and  authority,  which  is  not  a  usual  com- 
bination. His  range  was  very  wide,  his  tact  unfailing, 
his  touch  electric,  with  the  result,  naturally,  that  you 
sometimes  got  a  slight  shock,  just  perceptible  amid  the 
sparkle,  which  also  is  electric.  I  am  suggesting,  no 
doubt,  the  impressions  of  many  later  conversations 
as  well  as  of  this  first. 

For  I  have  seen  Lord  Rosebery  on  many  critical 


LORD  ROSEBERY  71 

occasions,  public  and  private.  The  way  in  which  a 
man  takes  victory  or  defeat  is  in  this  country  thought 
a  good  test  of  character,  and  perhaps  the  ordeal  is 
as  severe  on  the  Turf  as  anywhere  in  this  country. 
Well,  I  have  seen  him  win  and  lose  races,  and  no  man 
could  tell  from  his  face  whether  he  was  winning 
or  losing.  I  have  seen  him  on  the  platform  with 
somewhere  from  five  to  fifteen  thousand  people  cheer- 
ing themselves  into  apoplexies,  and  again  in  the  streets 
of  Edinburgh,  his  carriage  surrounded  by  a  howling 
mob  of  admirers.  These  are  the  occasions  on  which 
he  looks  bored.  He  can,  when  he  chooses,  discharge 
his  face  of  all  expression,  and  has  sufficient  control 
over  his  muscles,  and  even  over  the  eyes,  to  leave  the 
whole  visage  a  blank.    But  he  does  not  always  choose. 

In  the  critical  year  of  his  Premiership  he  was  per- 
haps tried  higher  than  ever  before.  He  was  a  Liberal 
and  his  most  dangerous  enemy  was  the  Liberal  leader 
of  the  House  of  Commons.  His  best  friends  were  in 
positions  where  they  could  give  him  little  help  in 
the  business  of  managing  the  party.  He  had  to  en- 
dure secret  hostility  in  matters  of  policy  and  to  pro- 
mote policies  which  he  did  not  think  the  best.  He 
used  to  say  that  as  Prime  Minister  he  had  nothing  to 
do.  That  is  always  true  in  a  departmental  sense  when 
the  Prime  Minister  is  only  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury, 
or,  as  Lord  Rosebery  was.  Lord  President  of  the 
Council.  In  his  case  it  was  true  because  he  was  not 
master  in  his  own  party,  nor  even  in  his  own  Cabinet. 
It  was,  in  fact,  not  his  own,  but  an  inherited  Cabinet. 
Disappointed  ambitions  confronted  him  and  under- 
mined his  position.    The  public  misunderstood  him. 

I  should  think  no  Englishman  in  a  great  position 
had  been  more  often  or  more  generally  misunderstood. 
He  is  a  Scotchman — that  may  be  one  reason,  but  the 


72         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

chief  reason  is  that  his  mind  has  something  of  the 
subtle  flexibiUty  of  the  Italian,  which  to  the  English 
is  a  puzzle.  Most  of  the  great  Italians  have  been 
diplomatists  and  Lord  Rosebery's  mind  is  essentially 
the  mind  of  the  diplomatist.  Those  to  whose  wishes 
he  will  not  bend  say  he  is  infirm  of  purpose.  That 
he  is  not.  Witness  the  grave  crises  in  which  he  used 
the  British  fleet  as  Palmerston  would  have  used  it. 
Sometimes,  it  is  true,  he  went  on  refining  like  Burke, 
or  like  Goldsmith's  Burke,  not  while  the  House 
thought  of  dining,  but  while  the  country  thought 
only  of  giving  a  plain  answer  to  a  plain  question,  if 
he  would  but  put  it  plainly.  He  liked  to  weigh  evi- 
dence instead  of  yielding  to  an  overmastering  impulse, 
which  is  in  politics  so  often  the  wisest  thing  to  do. 
He  has  a  respect  for  logic  which  the  English  people 
do  not  share  with  him.  Great  movements  of  public 
opinion  or  emotion  sometimes  pass  him  by. 

A  recent  illustration  is  as  good  as  any  other.  In 
the  suspended  conflict  between  Lords  and  Commons 
he  came  out  one  morning  in  The  Times  with  an  ap- 
peal to  Conservatives  to  drop  Tariff  Reform  and  fight 
the  coming  election  on  the  Constitutional  question 
only.  He  made  no  allowance  for  the  fact  that  after 
years  of  struggle  the  Tariff  Reformers  had  captured 
the  Conservative  organisation,  imposed  their  will  on 
the  Conservative  Party,  and  left  the  Conservative 
Free  Traders  a  beaten  and  helpless  minority.  What  he 
asked,  therefore,  was  that  the  triumphant  majority 
should  surrender  to  this  helpless  minority.  Was  it 
in  human  nature  to  do  that  ?  His  appeal  passed  un- 
regarded. 

Lord  Rosebery's  enemies — I  mean  political  enemies 
• — call  him  an  Opportunist,  as  Gambetta's  enemies 
called  Gambetta,  who  forthwith  accepted  and  adopted 


LORD  ROSEBERY  73 

the  name,  defined  it  for  himself,  and  welcomed  it  as 
a  eulogy.  But  the  true  criticism  on  Lord  Rosebery 
is  that  he  is  not  an  Opportunist.  The  ideal  policy  or 
the  logical  conclusion  presents  itself  to  him  as  inevit- 
able. It  is  an  intellectual  idol,  or  perhaps  image, 
and  he  worships  the  image  which  is,  like  that  of  most 
idolaters,  of  his  own  creation.  Then  he  cannot 
compromise.  He  goes  to  the  stake  for  it.  He  re- 
nounces power  sooner  than  betray  his  own  belief, 
and  he  and  his  party  fall  together.  It  is  a  very  noble 
trait,  but  it  is  not  exactly  politics. 

What  would  have  happened  if  the  Queen  had 
asked  Mr.  Gladstone,  on  his  retirement  in  1894,  to 
say  whom  he  recommended  as  his  successor,  and  if 
Mr.  Gladstone  had  named,  as  Lord  Morley  says  he 
would  have  named,  Lord  Spencer,  and  if  Lord 
Spencer  had  accepted  ?  It  might  well  enough  have 
altered  the  course  of  English  politics.  It  certainly 
would  have  improved  Lord  Rosebery's  position.  That 
Lord  Rosebery  did  not  then  wish  to  be  Prime  Minister 
is  well  known.  It  is  known  that  he  twice  refused  the 
office,  and  in  the  end  accepted  it  only  upon  the 
Queen's  urgency.  It  might  be  said  that  the  Queen 
made  a  personal  matter  of  it.  The  Radicals  may  say 
what  they  will,  but  the  influence  and  even  the  au- 
thority of  the  Queen  were  in  those  last  years  of  her 
life  very  great. 

If  Mr.  Gladstone  had  been  asked  what  he  thought 
about  it,  and  how  often,  in  matters  in  which  he  as 
Prime  Minister  was  concerned,  the  Queen's  ascendancy 
had  been  successfully  asserted,  his  answer  would  have 
covered  a  great  deal  of  ground.  And  if  Mr.  Gladstone, 
with  all  the  accumulated  authority  of  his  unrivalled 
experience,  and  all  his  force  of  character,  and  all  his 
popularity,   could   not   always   stand   up   against   the 


74         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

Queen,  how  could  it  be  expected  that  a  much  younger 
man  could  refuse  to  obey  her  ?  The  Queen  had,  in 
fact,  taken  a  strong  step  when  she  neglected  to  ask 
Air.  Gladstone's  advice  as  to  his  successor.  Her 
Majesty  was  within  her  right  in  not  asking,  but  was 
outside  the  accepted  custom  and  usage.  All  the  more, 
having  taken  upon  herself  the  responsibility  which 
she  might  have  divided  with  her  great  Minister,  was 
she  bound  to  carry  out  her  scheme,  and,  if  I  may 
say  so,  force  upon  Lord  Rosebery  the  office  he  had 
the  best  of  reasons  for  wishing  to  decline.  And  she 
did. 

I  take  it  one  chief  reason  for  the  Queen's  peremp- 
tory choice  of  Lord  Rosebery  was  her  opinion  of  his 
capacity  as  Foreign  Minister.  He  had  been  Secretary 
of  State  for  Foreign  Affairs  under  Mr.  Gladstone  in 
1886,  and  again  under  Mr.  Gladstone  from  1892  to 
1894,  and  held  that  post  when  Mr.  Gladstone  resigned 
office.  "  Under  Mr.  Gladstone,"  but  under  him  in 
name  only.  For  it  is  known  that  Lord  Rosebery, 
certainly  in  1892  and  perhaps  also  in  1886,  had  taken 
office  upon  condition  that  he  was  to  have  a  free  hand. 
Mr.  Gladstone's  conceptions  and  methods  of  foreign 
policy  were  not  Lord  Rosebery's.  They  were  not 
those  which  had  made  England,  from  Cromwell's 
time  with  brief  intervals  down  to  the  present  day,  a 
great  Continental  Power.  They  were  not  Chatham's. 
They  were  not  Pitt's.  They  were  not  Palmerston's. 
They  had,  in  fact,  brought  the  prestige  and  authority 
of  England  upon  the  Continent  lower  than  they  had 
stood  since  Charles  II.  For  conceptions  and  methods 
which  had  had  that  result  Lord  Rosebery  did  not  pro- 
pose to  make  himself  responsible.  He  was  perfectly 
loyal  to  Mr.  Gladstone,  but  he  made  it  clear  to  his 
great  chief  that  he  believed — which  his  chief  did  not 


LORD  ROSEBERY  75 

— in  the  continuity  of  English  foreign  policy,  and  that 
he  did  not  intend  to  depart  from  the  lines  Lord  Salis- 
bury had  laid  down. 

Mr.  Gladstone  held  views  upon  Cabinet-making 
which  were  not  easily  reconciled  with  these  claims 
of  independence.  On  one  memorable  occasion  he 
had  said  to  an  eminent  but  much  younger  man  whom 
he  desired  as  a  colleague,  but  in  a  post  to  which  the 
eminent  much  younger  man  preferred  another,  that 
he  must  be  master  in  his  own  Cabinet. 

But  Mr.  Gladstone  in  1892  had  hardly  a  choice. 
By  the  voice  of  the  Liberal  Party  and  by  public  opinion 
Lord  Rosebery  was  designated  Foreign  Minister,  and 
there  was  no  real  competitor.  Sir  Edward  Grey  had 
not  then  reached  his  present  position.  He  was,  more- 
over. Lord  Rosebery's  friend  and  supporter.  The 
retirement  of  Lord  Salisbury  was  a  momentous  occa- 
sion. Since  the  death  of  Prince  Bismarck  Lord  Salis- 
bury had  stood  alone.  There  remained  no  European 
statesman  or  diplomatist  whose  reputation  and  au- 
thority abroad  were  comparable  to  Lord  Salisbury's. 
Among  English  Ministers  Lord  Rosebery  stood  next 
to  Lord  Salisbury,  and  to  pass  him  over  or  to  put 
him  in  leading  strings,  or  to  let  it  be  known  that 
though  he  held  the  seals  Mr.  Gladstone  was  to  mould 
and  direct  the  foreign  policy  of  Great  Britain,  would 
have  been  to  notify  all  Europe  that  Great  Britain  had 
again,  as  under  Lord  Granville,  become  a  negligible 
quantity  in  the  affairs  of  the  Continent. 

I  do  not  suggest  that  as  an  argument  which  would 
have  force,  or  did  have  any  force,  with  Mr.  Gladstone. 
In  foreign  policy,  as  in  all  other  policies,  he  believed 
in  himself.  To  the  last,  he  thought  himself  right  in 
denouncing  the  Bulgarian  massacres,  in  opposing  the 
Congress  of  Berlin,  in  preaching  an  Armenian  crusade, 


76         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

in  desiring  to  withdraw  from  Egypt,  in  surrendering 
after  Majuba  Hill  the  territory  claimed  by  Kriiger,  in 
opposing  the  purchase  of  the  Suez  Canal  shares,  and 
so  on.  He  took  domestic  views  of  foreign  policy,  and 
continued  to  take  them  to  the  last.  And  it  was  because 
he  took  domestic  views  that  he  reluctantly  consented 
to  leave  to  Lord  Rosebery,  as  Foreign  Minister,  the 
conduct  of  foreign  affairs.  He  found  he  could  not 
have  Lord  Rosebery  on  any  other  terms,  and  in  1892  a 
Cabinet  without  Lord  Rosebery  as  Foreign  Minister 
would  have  been,  for  purely  domestic  reasons,  un- 
thinkable. There  was  one  view  of  foreign  policy  which 
Mr.  Gladstone  well  knew  Lord  Rosebery  would  never 
take  ;  the  emotional  view  ;  and  there  was  one  view 
which  Mr.  Gladstone  himself,  whether  he  knew  it  or 
not,  had  never  failed  to  take  :  the  emotional  view. 
Anything  like  a  compromise  between  two  minds 
thus  constituted  was  obviously  impossible.  The  one 
or  the  other  had  to  give  way,  and  it  was  Mr.  Glad- 
stone who  gave  way. 

It  is  among  the  little  ironies  of  political  life  that  a 
man  who  had  fought  such  a  fight  as  this  and  won  it, 
and  who  made  the  fruits  of  victory  his  own  and  his 
country's,  should  be  supposed  to  be  wanting  in 
resolution.  During  his  tenure  of  the  Foreign  Office, 
from  1892  to  1894,  the  voice  of  England  was  heard 
with  respect  on  the  Continent  ;  the  policy  of  England 
was  recognized  as  a  consistent  policy ;  firm,  courageous, 
unwavering. 

"  On  the  whole,"  said  Lord  Salisbury,  "  among  all 
qualities  essential  to  a  diplomatist  patience  is  most 
likely  to  be  of  permanent  use." 

He  said  it  in  the  summer  of  1896,  apropos  of  the 
Venezuela  business,  then  drawing  to  its  close.  He 
himself  had  shown  all  through  the  negotiations,  be- 


LORD  ROSEBERY  77 

ginning  in  July,  1895,  and  ending  in  the  autumn  of 
1896,  both  patience  and  firmness. 

Lord  Rosebery's  diplomatic  equipment  is,  in  truth, 
very  like  that  of  Lord  Salisbury.  He,  too,  has  patience; 
and  he  has  the  firmness  needful  to  get  the  true  value 
out  of  patience.  He  has  another  gift  in  which  Lord 
Salisbury  was  pre-eminent — the  power  of  work.  I 
was  with  Lord  Rosebery  one  night  at  Mentmore. 
He  sat  in  his  room  upstairs,  inside  a  rampart  of  Foreign 
Office  dispatch  boxes,  three  sides  of  a  quadrilateral 
and  as  high  as  his  writing-table.  As  I  left,  about  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  I  asked  : 

"  When  are  you  going  through  those  ?  " 

"  Now." 

"  But  that  may  mean  half  the  rest  of  the  night." 

"  I  can't  tell  how  long  they  may  take  till  I  have 
looked  at  them,  but,  long  or  short,  they  must  be  done 
to-night.  The  only  way  to  deal  with  F.  O.  business  is 
to  start  with  a  clean  slate  every  morning." 

I  remembered  having  heard  from  a  Foreign  Office 
clerk  that  Lord  Granville  used  to  leave  his  boxes  un- 
opened for  three  weeks  at  a  time.  And  I  remembered 
having  met  Lord  Granville  on  a  Sunday  morning  in 
the  country,  when  he  learned  from  a  Sunday  news- 
paper arriving  about  eleven  o'clock  a  piece  of  diplo- 
matic intelligence  of  high  importance  which  must 
have  been  known  in  the  Foreign  Office  in  London  the 
day  before.  Well,  yes,  and  I  remembered  having  been 
told  in  Berlin  that  high  officials  of  that  highly  and 
deservedly  praised  German  bureaucracy  thought  them- 
selves lucky  if  they  got  papers  back  from  the  Emperor 
three  weeks  after  they  had  been  sent. 

"  Penal  servitude  for  fourteen  hours  a  day,"  was 
Lord  Rosebery's  own  description  of  his  work  at  the 
Foreign  Office.     The  working-man  who  thinks  eight 


78         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

hours  a  day  too  much  might  be  asked  what  he  thought 
of  fourteen  as  a  measure  for  one  of  the  leisured  class. 
But  Lord  Rosebery,  whose  name  figures  often  and 
high  on  the  Turf  and  in  Court  ceremonies,  and  as 
host  and  guest  in  London  and  in  the  country  and 
abroad,  has  nevertheless  always  been  a  worker.  He 
is,  for  all  practical  purposes,  the  greatest  living 
English  master  of  that  political  and  diplomatic  history 
without  which  a  politician  or  a  diplomatist  can  be 
only  an  amateur.  If  he  had  not  that,  and  much  else, 
including  a  knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  men, 
sometimes  cynical  but  always  kindly,  he  would  not  be 
what  the  great  Queen  called  him,  "  a  heaven-born 
Foreign  Minister." 


CHAPTER  VII 
FIELD-MARSHAL   VISCOUNT   WOLSELEY 

'np^O  what  is  said  about  Lord  Haldane,  Minister 
of  War,  I  might  add  some  remarks  on  the 
present  state  of  the  British  army,  were  that  not 
travelling  too  far  afield.  It  may  answer  the  purpose 
if  I  give  you  a  memory  or  two  of  General  Wolseley 
— I  mean  Field-Marshal  Viscount  Wolseley,  but  I 
knew  him  and  all  the  world  knew  him  so  long  as 
General  that  this  title  still  comes  most  readily  to 
one's  lips  or  pen.  I  don't  enter  upon  military  con- 
troversies, but  since  Lord  Haldane  is  hailed — by  one 
set  of  politico-military  critics — as  the  regenerator  of 
the  British  army,  I  will  quote  what  a  great  authority 
said  to  me  : 

"  The  British  army  has  of  late  been  a  good  deal 
pulled  about,  and  has  had  several  doctors  all  honestly 
trying  to  improve  its  constitution.  Lord  Cardwell, 
Lord  Lansdowne,  Mr.  Arnold  Forster,  Mr.  Brodrick 
(now  Lord  Midleton),  and  finally  Lord  Haldane, 
tried  their  hands,  each  in  his  own  way.  Their  failures 
differed  in  kind  and  in  degree,  but  they  were  all 
failures — or,  if  Lord  Haldane's  scheme  is  not  yet 
a  failure,  you  will  see  that,  with  all  its  ingenuity  and 
scope,  it  will  not  stand  the  test  of  time." 

Then  he  went  on  : 

"  The  one  man  to  whom  the  army  owes  almost 
all   the   efficiency  it   now   has   is  Wolseley.      It   was 

79 


8o         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

Wolseley  who  introduced  short  service,  and  short 
service  is  the  foundation  of  military  usefulness. 
He  did  it  in  the  face  of  tremendous  opposition, 
with  the  Duke  of  Cambridge,  then  Commander-in- 
Chief,  at  the  head  of  the  opposition.  But  nobody 
now  denies  that  it  was  a  reform  without  which  the 
army  would  have  decayed." 

Side  by  side  with  that  I  print  another  quotation  ; 
this  one  from  Field-Marshal  Wolseley  himself.  But 
first  I  ask  you  to  remember  that  this  great  soldier 
had  served  all  over  the  world,  beginning  with  the 
Burmese  War,  in  1852^53  ;  then  in  the  Crimea,  where 
he  was  pretty  well  shot  to  pieces,  and  won  his  cap- 
taincy at  twenty  ;  then  in  India,  at  Lucknow  ;  then 
China  ;  then  the  Red  River  Expedition  in  Canada  ; 
then  the  Gold  Coast,  in  command  during  the  Ashantee 
Campaign;  then  Egypt,  in  1882,  crushing  the  Arabi 
Rebellion  ;  then,  two  years  later,  at  the  head  of  the 
Gordon  Relief  Expedition,  which  would  have  ended 
in  success  instead  of  defeat  had  his  advice  been  taken 
before  it  started  ;  then  Commander  of  the  Forces 
in  Ireland,  and  so  on.  During  all  this  time  he  rose 
steadily  in  rank  and  in  renown.  He  was  thanked 
by  Parliament  three  times,  was  raised  to  the  peerage, 
and  later  made  a  viscount.  Promotion  followed 
promotion ;  he  was  Quartermaster-General  of  the 
Forces  as  early  as  1880,  then  Adjutant-General  and 
chief  executive  officer  of  the  army,  1882-85  >  ^^^ 
again  1885-90;  finally  Field-Marshal  in  1894;  and 
Commander-in-Chief  of  the  army,  1 895-1 900.  That 
is  a  mere  skeleton  of  his  career,  but  it  will  serve  as 
the  preface  I  want  for  my  quotation.  When  the  Boer 
War  broke  out,  the  command  was  not  offered  to 
Wolseley,  nor  was  it  till  Lord  Roberts  entered  the 
field  that  the  record  of  British  defeats,  cheered  by 


FIELD-MARSHAL  VISCOUNT  WOLSELEY  8 1 

the  Irish  Nationalists  in  Parhament,  came  to  an  end. 
I  met  Lord  Wolseley  during  one  of  those  gloomy 
periods,  and  to  my  "  How  are  you  ?  "  he  answered  : 

"  Thanks.  I  am  very  well,  and  I  spend  my  time 
trying  to  forget  that  I  have  ever  been  a  soldier." 

Did  you  ever  hear  a  more  pathetic  speech  ?  He 
was  then  but  sixty-five.  He  knew  himself  still  capable 
of  command.  He  knew  why  he  had  been  passed  over. 
He  had  to  look  on  while  the  War  Office  at  home 
and  the  generals  in  the  field  vied  with  each  other 
in  colossal  blunders,  and  while,  as  Lord  Rosebery 
said,  the  fortunes  of  the  whole  British  Empire  hung 
in  the  balance.  He  knew  South  Africa.  He  had 
powers  of  organizing  and  powers  of  fighting  which 
had  never  failed  him.  But  the  War  Office,  which 
had  pigeon-holed  General  Sir  William  Butler's  re- 
ports warning  his  chiefs  of  what  was  coming  ;  which 
sent  Sir  Redvers  Buller  to  the  front,  on  whom  "  disaster 
followed  fast  and  followed  faster  "  ;  which  starved 
the  services  and  thought  forty  thousand  men  could 
do  the  work  for  which  a  quarter  of  a  million  proved 
to  be  none  too  many ; — the  War  Office,  of  which 
first  Lord  Lansdowne,  1 898-1 900,  and  then  Mr.  St. 
John  Brodrick,  1900-3,  were  the  responsible  Ministers, 
had  no  use  for  such  a  soldier — a  tried,  victorious 
soldier — as  Wolseley.  Their  mistake  cost  England 
dear  ;  and  it  cost  her  best  captain  what  remained  to 
him  of  happiness  in  life.  He  was  put  on  the  shelf, 
and  left  there. 

It  is  now  many  years  since  I  have  seen  Lord  Wolseley. 
The  pleasant  house  in  Hill  Street,  Berkeley  Square, 
is  pleasant  for  other  reasons,  if  it  be  pleasant.  He 
and  Lady  Wolseley  are  among  the  privileged  inhabit- 
ants of  Hampton  Court  Palace.  I  hear  he  has  aged  ; 
perhaps    has    never    recovered    from    the    shock    and 

G 


82         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

disappointment  and  the  many  sorrows,  public  and 
personal,  of  the  Boer  War.  The  years — there  are 
seventy-eight  of  them — ^have  dealt  gently  with  him, 
but  there  is  nobody  on  whom  they  do  not  leave  a 
mark ;  they  and  wounds  and  privation  and  fatigue 
and  great  responsibilities  greatly  borne.  But  down  to 
a  recent  period  the  vigour  of  his  mind  had  not  been 
impaired. 

I  write  with  a  photograph  before  me  which  Lord 
Wolseley  gave  me  in  1895,  signed  and  dated.  The 
signature,  "  Wolseley,"  is  strong  and  firm ;  each 
letter  clear-cut  almost  as  if  with  a  sword  ;  and  it 
is  certainly  the  slash  of  a  sabre  which  finishes  off  the 
"  5."  The  great  soldier  is  in  a  Field-Marshal's  uniform. 
He  wears  the  ribbon  and  Grand  Cross  of  the  Bath, 
the  Grand  Cross  of  St.  Michael  and  St.  George, 
the  Star  of  St.  Patrick,  nine  military  medals,  each 
a  souvenir  of  great  services  in  the  field  ;  and  more 
clasps  than  I  can  count.  The  signature  and  date  are 
scored  across  the  ribbon. 

None  of  these  decorations  would  you  notice  till 
you  had  looked  at  the  face,  which  is  rather  more 
than  three-quarters  front.  The  strength  of  it  is  well 
rendered  in  the  photograph,  and  its  one  weakness — 
a  retreating  chin — is  altogether  hidden.  I  don't 
know  whether  this  riddle  was  ever  presented  to  the 
physiognomists  to  read,  nor  how  it  happened  that  a 
man  whose  whole  life  is  a  record  of  unshaken  purpose 
and  invincible  courage  should  have  had  the  lower 
part  of  his  face  so  moulded  as  to  denote  irresolution. 
But  there  it  is.  All  the  rest  is  as  fine  as  you  could  wish, 
every  feature  chiselled  ;  the  forehead  broad  and  full ; 
the  poise  of  the  head  such  as  comes  from  long  leader- 
ship of  men.  What  the  photograph  cannot  give  is 
the  light  in  the  eyes  ;  or  in  one  of  them,  since  the 


FIELD-MARSHAL  VISCOUNT  WOLSELEY  83 

other — and  it's  not  easy  to  tell  which — is  artificial. 
But  the  one  the  bullets  left  him  is  filled  with  blue 
fire  ;  which  grows  deeper  as  he  talks. 

Clear  as  are  my  remembrances  of  Lord  Wolseley, 
I  despair  of  making  clear  to  others  the  vividness  of 
his  talk,  still  more  any  clear  notion  of  the  man  him- 
self. But  I  will  quote  a  sentence  or  two  from  an 
old  letter  : 

"  It  is  because  he  has  something  to  say  on  so  many 
matters,  and  this  perfect  fearlessness  in  saying  it, 
that  his  conversation  is  successful.  There  is  an  alert 
energy  in  his  manner  which  seems  fitting  to  a  warrior 
on  the  war-path  ;  his  store  of  anecdote  and  reminis- 
cence is  vast,  his  convictions  are  free  from  any  taint 
of  uncertainty,  and  he  agrees  with  Lord  Beaconsfield 
in  regarding  invective  as  an  ornament  of  debate." 

But  his  invective  was,  after  all,  good-natured. 
I  never  heard  from  him  a  vindictive  word.  He  was 
no  more  vindictive  than  a  judge  on  the  bench  sen- 
tencing a  criminal  is  vindictive  ;  though  the  criminal 
may  think  he  is.  But  Wolseley  was  never  the  man  to 
suppress  an  opinion  because  it  might  not  be  the 
opinion  of  others.  He  was  outspoken  in  all  companies, 
and  quite  willing  that  others  should  be  equally  out- 
spoken. There  is  a  courage  of  the  drawing-room 
as  of  the  battlefield,  and  that  also  Lord  Wolseley  had. 
With  it  went  a  cheerfulness  which  was  equally  part 
of  his  nature  :  and  was  the  cause  of  cheerfulness  in 
others.  His  presence  and  his  talk  were  alike  inspiriting. 
In  that  slight  shattered  body  dwelt  an  invincible 
force  ;  a  happy  temperament  and  a  power  of  en- 
durance no  trial  had  ever  shaken,  nor  any  stress  of 
circumstance  impaired.  I  once  asked  him  what  was 
the  worst  cHmate  he  had  ever  known.  He  thought, 
and  answered  : 


84         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

"  The  only  place  I  can  recollect  where  I  ever  woke 
in  the  morning  not  feeling  perfectly  fit  was  Suakim." 

It  was  part  of  the  heroism  of  his  nature  to  accept 
things  as  they  came  :  bullets,  fever,  and  the  rest. 
He  was  a  soldier,  and  they  were  in  the  day's  work. 
He  was  a  born  leader  of  men,  and  men  follow  a  man 
who  will  lead  them  to  their  death  and  his  ;  and  him 
only  do  they  follow.  Into  the  rush  of  battle  and  of 
life,  in  age  and  youth  alike,  pectoris  fervor  misit 
jurentem. 

Writing  twenty  years  ago,  when  some  people  were 
alive  who  are  now  dead,  I  said  that  Lord  Wolseley 
had  been  known  to  send  a  letter  from  the  Nile  to  a 
schoolgirl,  in  which  the  burden  of  just  responsibility 
for  the  delay  in  resolving  on  the  Gordon  Relief  Ex- 
pedition was  laid  squarely  on  the  shoulders  where  it 
belonged.  Now  I  will  add  that  the  girl  herself 
showed  me  the  letter.  I  said  also  that  Lord  Wolseley 
had  been  known  to  repeat  the  same  accusation  on 
his  return  home  in  a  dozen  different  companies, 
and  to  all  comers,  and  with  every  circumstance  of 
publicity,  as  if  he  intended  it  to  reach  the  ears  of 
him  whom  he  thought  guilty,  as  no  doubt  it  did. 

Yes,  but  this  publicity  was  never  of  print.  London 
journalism  was  then,  perhaps,  more  reticent,  more 
discreet,  than  it  is  to-day — at  any  rate,  Lord  Wolseley's 
accusation  never,  so  far  as  I  know,  found  its  way 
into  the  papers.  I  myself  was  discreet  because  the 
guilty  person  was  then  alive.  But  I  have  no  need 
to  inquire  of  others,  for  I  heard  Lord  Wolseley  more 
■  than  once  denounce  the  author  of  that  dilatory 
policy  which  in  its  result,  though  of  course  not  in 
its  intention,  left  Gordon  to  be  hacked  in  pieces 
by  Mahdist  spears  in  betrayed  Khartoum.  It  was 
Mr.    Gladstone,    then    Prime    Minister    and    ever   a 


FIELD-MARSHAL  VISCOUNT  WOLSELEY  85 

lukewarm  friend  of  Gordon,  if  not  his  enemy,  who 
held  back  the  rehef  force  during  that  summer  of 
1885,  while  the  Nile  was  steadily  falling  and  an  over- 
whelming savage  force  was  besieging  Khartoum. 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  Lord  Wolseley,  "  I  put  every 
military  argument  before  Mr.  Gladstone.  I  pressed 
upon  him  the  urgent  necessity  of  haste.  I  assured 
him  that  though  others  had  been  discussed,  there 
was  but  one  road  to  Khartoum,  and  that  was  the 
Nile  ;  and  that  as  the  Nile  fell  the  problem  of  trans- 
porting troops  and  munitions  and  provisions  by  that 
stream  grew  each  day  more  difficult.  I  besought  him 
to  act.     He  would  not." 

At  another  time  the  baffled  General  put  his  case 
still  more  compactly.  Mr.  Gladstone,  he  said, 
knew  well  that  time  was  of  the  essence  of  the  whole 
matter. 

"  I  was  on  my  knees  to  Mr.  Gladstone  for  months, 
entreating  him  to  let  us  go.    He  steadfastly  refused." 

And  so  Gordon's  doom  was  sealed  in  Downing 
Street.  Lord  Morley,  in  his  Life  of  Gladstone,  makes 
a  half-hearted  attempt  to  put  the  blame,  or  some 
of  the  blame,  on  Lord  Hartington,  then  Minister 
of  War.  He  quotes  a  sentence  from  a  letter  of  Mr. 
Gladstone  to  Lord  Granville,  in  1888,  saying  :  "  I 
don't  think  he  [Hartington]  ever  came  to  any  sharp 
issue  (like  mine  about  Zobeir)  ;  rather  that  in  the 
main  he  got  what  he  wanted."  But  that  is  the  plea 
of  the  accused  in  his  own  behalf.  The  answer  is 
simple.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  Prime  Minister  and  Lord 
Hartington  was  not.  Mr.  Gladstone  may  have  had 
difficulties  with  his  Cabinet  as  he  did  about  Gordon's 
request  for  Zobeir.  But  he  was  the  most  masterful 
of  First  Ministers  when  he  chose  to  be.  The  truth 
is,  Mr.  Gladstone's  heart  was  never  in  Egypt,  and  his 


86         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

sympathies  with  Gordon  were  ever  sluggish.  No 
decision  was  taken  till  August  8,  1885.  Later,  Lord 
Wolseley  was  appointed  to  command  the  expedition. 
On  September  9  he  reached  Cairo  ;  on  October  5, 
Wady  Haifa.  Not  till  then  did  the  Nile  Campaign 
begin.  Lord  Wolseley's  letter  to  Lord  Hartington, 
recommending  immediate  and  active  preparations 
for  an  exclusively  British  expedition  to  Khartoum, 
had  been  written  and  sent  April  8.  To  that  list  of 
facts  and  dates  I  do  not  care  to  add  any  comment. 

On  other  great  issues  he  spoke  with  the  same  free- 
dom ;  on  Home  Rule,  for  one.  His  conception  of 
his  duty  as  a  soldier  did  not  lead  him  to  silence  when 
he  saw  danger  to  his  country.  In  a  letter  to  the  Duke 
of  Cambridge,  written  when  Mr.  Gladstone  was 
using  his  great  powers  for  the  break-up  of  the  United 
Kingdom,  Lord  Wolseley  said  : 

"  Home  Rule  will  be  the  end  of  the  English  army." 
The  sentence  is  characteristic  ;  a  deep  meaning, 
clear  to  him,  expressed  in  a  phrase  likely  to  puzzle 
those  who  had  not  looked  at  Home  Rule  with  a 
military  eye.  His  belief  was  that  English  soldiers 
would  refuse  to  fire  on  Ulstermen  whose  crime  was 
loyalty  to  England.  But,  whatever  their  reason,  an 
army  that  mutinies  is  no  longer  an  army.  It  is  a 
subject  which  an  Irish  soldier  who  has  been  Com- 
mander of  the  Forces  in  Ireland  may  be  supposed  to 
know  something  about. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL— THE  BOY  AND 

THE    MAN 


"jV/rOST  people  speak  of  him,  or  used  to,  as 
Winston  ;  perhaps  because  he  was,  and  still 
is,  being  now  in  his  thirty-eighth  year,  a  youthful 
prodigy.  This  ease  of  allusion  may  denote  affection, 
or  may  not.  It  was  not  from  affection  that  the 
English  called  Bonaparte  "  Boney."  There  were 
mixed  motives  which  underlay  the  re-christening 
of  the  ex-President  of  the  United  States  "  Teddy," 
to  which  European  nations  never  accustomed  them- 
selves. Mr.  Roosevelt,  with  his  sure  instinct  for 
popularity  and  what  tends  to  promote  it,  seems  to 
have  encouraged  this  familiarity.  Mr.  Gladstone 
was  spoken  of,  but  never  to,  as  "  Mr.  G."  Nor  was 
"  Dizzy  "  used  to  denote  his  great  adversary  except 
in  the  third  person.  In  the  case  of  the  First  Lord 
of  the  Admiralty,  long  before  he  attained  to  that 
great  dignity,  it  was  partly  a  matter  of  convenience. 
There  were  many  Churchills  and  only  one  Winston, 
unless  you  count  the  American  novelist,  whom  you  need 
not  count  since  he  lives  in  a  different  hemisphere. 

I  knew  this  extraordinary  man  as  a  boy  at  the  age 
of  ten.  I  was  staying  with  Lord  and  Lady  Randolph 
at  Great  Forsters,  a  fine  old  Elizabethan  mansion 
near  Egham,  which  they  rented  for  two  successive 
summers.     The  boy  Winston  had,   even  at  the  age 

87 


88         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

of  ten,  the  same  clear  notion  of  what  he  wanted 
and  how  to  get  it  which  has  distinguished  him  ever 
since.  He  wanted,  one  morning,  to  go  boating  on 
the  river.  He  invited  his  mother.  Lady  Randolph, 
his  younger  brother  Jack,  and  me  to  go  with  him. 
He  took  command  of  the  party,  first  on  land  and  then 
on  the  water.  Nobody  thought  of  disputing  his 
claim.  I  had  lived  enough  in  boats  to  see  that  Winston, 
though  with  no  great  skill  in  watermanship,  knew  what 
he  was  about,  and  though  he  ran  some  needless  risks, 
it  was  never  necessary  to  interfere.  The  critical 
moments  were  never  dangerous,  and  we  landed  as 
we  had  embarked,  quite  safely.  I  paid  him  the 
compliment  on  his  captaining  that  was  his  due,  to 
which  he  kindly  answered,  "  But  I  see  you  know  as 
much  as  I  do  about  rowing." 

It  was  during  this  same  visit  that  I  gave  Winston 
a  little  present.  It  is  the  custom  in  England,  and  the 
boy,  with  all  his  premature  ambitions,  was  attractive. 
For  years  after  I  never  met  him  that  he  did  not 
renew  his  thanks.  That  is  not  the  custom  with  the 
English,  whose  genius  is  for  repression  and  reserve. 
It  was  perhaps  the  American  half  of  him  which  ex- 
pressed itself  in  this  way.  Nobody,  I  think,  would 
describe  the  American  genius  as  one  of  repression 
and  reserve,  nor  did  Miss  Jerome  when  she  married 
an  English  husband  cease  to  be  an  American  with 
more  than  the  usual  American  exuberance  of  nature. 
It  was  this  clinging  to  her  Americanism  which  was 
one  of  the  secrets  of  her  popularity  in  England  :  and 
among  the  best  people  in  England. 

Since  those  pleasant  days  at  Great  Forsters,  in 
1884  and  1885,  I  have  met  him  in  many  companies 
and  circumstances,  and  it  is  only  of  what  I  have 
seen — or    almost    only — that    I    shall    have    anything 


MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  89 

to  say.  His  career  of  military  and  quasi-military 
service  and  adventure  as  soldier  and  correspondent 
deserves  a  book  to  itself,  and,  indeed,  he  has  written 
more  books  than  one,  and  very  good  books  they  are. 
By  the  time  he  was  twenty-six  he  had  seen  and  shared 
in  some  ten  campaigns,  in  Cuba,  in  India,  in  Egypt, 
and  in  South  Africa.  In  all  he  was  distinguished, 
and  he  wears  I  know  not  how  many  military  medals 
and  clasps.  But  I  am  not  writing  a  biography, 
and  I  refer  to  none  of  these  adventures  except  his 
escape  from  a  Boer  prison,  and  to  that  only  in  order 
to  say  that  having  heard  the  statements  on  both  sides, 
including  a  full  one  from  himself,  I  think  his  conduct 
open  to  no  reproach  nor  even  criticism.  Civil  or 
military,  his  life  has  been  a  battle,  and  most  of  his 
battles  have  been  victories. 

When  he  came  to  America  to  lecture  on  the  South 
African  War  I  met  him  at  Government  House,  in 
Ottawa.  It  was  during  Lord  Minto's  Governor- 
Generalship,  and  Government  House  was  then, 
in  much  more  than  an  official  sense,  the  social  centre 
of  the  Dominion.  Lady  Minto  carried  all  before  her. 
Winston's  lecture  tour  had  been  organized  by  Major 
Pond,  then  at  the  head  of  the  lecture  business  in 
America,  a  man  with  good  qualities,  but  prone  to 
take  a  purely  business  view  of  matters  which,  after 
all,  depended  on  something  besides  good  business 
management  for  success.  It  was  of  common  know- 
ledge that  between  him  and  the  lecturer  there  was 
friction.  Friends  were  called  into  council  and  the 
strife  was  appeased,  but  there  was  one  evening  when 
all  Ottawa  was  crowding  into  the  theatre,  all  unaware 
of  the  doubt  whether  Mr.  Churchill  would  appear.  He 
thought  a  point  of  honour  involved,  and  that  had  to  be 
disposed  of  before  he  would  consider  anything  else. 


90         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

In  New  York  the  Irish,  whom  in  New  York  and 
elsewhere  we  have  always  with  us,  were  not  disposed 
to  welcome  Mr.  Churchill  as  a  lecturer,  nor  perhaps 
even  to  allow  him  to  be  heard.  They  gathered  in 
some  force  in  Carnegie  Hall,  not  having  Mr.  Car- 
negie's peace  precepts  in  mind,  bent  on  disturbance  : 
bent  on  silencing  the  Englishman  who  presumed  to 
take  his  country's  side  and  tell  his  country's  story 
of  a  war  which  Mr.  Patrick  Ford  disapproved.  They 
made  no  demonstration  when  Mr.  Churchill  appeared 
on  the  platform.  They  kept  quiet  till  he  mentioned 
the  Boers,  and  at  that  name  they  broke  into  a  storm 
of  applause.  Mr.  Churchill  waited  till  it  ended. 
Then  he  said  : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  am  glad  to  hear  those  cheers. 
You  are  quite  right  to  cheer  the  Boers.  They  are 
a  brave  people,  and  they  deserve  all  the  cheers  you 
can  give  them." 

Then  again  the  cheers  broke  forth,  but  this  time 
not  for  the  Boers,  but  for  Mr.  Churchill.  His  tact, 
his  quickness  in  assuming  that  it  was  the  courage  of 
the  Boers,  and  not  their  politics,  the  Irish  applauded, 
won  over  the  hostile  minority,  and  the  minority 
merged  in  the  majority.  To  the  end  there  was  no 
further  outbreak.  Now  that,  I  suppose,  is  the  kind 
of  talent  which  serves  a  politician  better  than  any 
other.  Mr.  Churchill  has  shown  it  on  a  hundred 
platforms  since.  In  Carnegie  Hall  it  was  an  inspiration, 
but  even  an  inspiration  may  improve  by  practice, 
and  there  is  now  in  England  no  politician  who  of  late 
years,  and  especially  during  the  last  two  General 
Elections,  has  spoken  so  often  and  always  in  every 
speech  with  such  fullness  and  freshness  and  effect 
as  Mr.  Winston  Churchill.  He  is  supposed  to  be  the 
most  unpopular  Member  of  the  Ministry  or  of  the 


MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  91 

Ministerial  Party.  Probably  he  is,  but  he  is  also  the 
most  popular.  Politics  I  eschew,  but  the  man  about 
whom  the  leader  of  the  Opposition  and  the  Prime 
Minister  contend  in  the  first  great  debate  of  a 
serious  Session  of  Parliament  is  not  an  ordinary 
politician.  Mr.  Balfour  pours  ridicule  on  him  for 
his  performances  at  the  Sidney  Street  fight,  where 
"  he  was  in  the  zone  of  fire — he  and  a  photographer, 
both  risking  valuable  lives."  To  which  Mr.  Asquith, 
who  is  understood  to  find  now  and  then  a  difficulty 
in  reducing  his  colleague  to  order,  replied  : 

"  My  right  honourable  friend,  if  he  will  forgive 
me  for  saying  so,  suffers  from  the  dangerous  endow- 
ment of  an  interesting  personality." 

Precisely,  and  that  is  why  I  write  about  him  and 
you,  I  hope,  read  about  him. 

With  one  other  remark  I  will  get  clear  away  from 
this  zone  of  fire  and  from  all  proximity  to  immediate 
controversies.  I  must  presume  that  the  Conservative 
censures  on  him  are  heard  beyond  the  Atlantic. 
These  censures  are  frequent  and  extremely  bitter  ; 
even  more  bitter  than  those  upon  Mr.  Lloyd  George. 
The  reason  for  the  extra  bitterness  is  simple.  Mr. 
Lloyd  George  was  from  the  beginning  an  unregenerate 
Radical  in  whom  all  the  natural  and  acquired  vices  of 
Radicalism  were  fully  developed  at  an  early  age. 
Nothing,  therefore,  but  Radicalism,  in  its  most  extreme 
socialistic  form,  was  ever  expected  of  him.  But  Mr. 
Churchill  was  born  into  the  world  a  Conservative, 
and  a  Conservative  he  remained  till  Mr.  Balfour, 
then  Prime  Minister,  rejected  his  application  for 
Cabinet  Office.  Then  he  crossed  the  floor  of  the 
House  and  has  ever  since  acted  with  the  Liberals, 
who  knew  the  value  of  their  recruit  and  gave  him 
what   Mr.    Balfour   had   denied.      That   is   what   the 


92         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

Conservatives  tell  you,  and  that  is  why  their  dislike 
of  Mr.  Churchill  is  so  extreme.  It  does  not  stop 
short  of  something  like  social  ostracism.  Mr. 
Churchill's  social  position  is  not  unlike  that  of  Lord 
Spencer  in  1886,  when  he  followed  Mr.  Gladstone 
into  the  Home  Rule  camp ;  for  Lord  Spencer,  though 
he  never  passed  from  one  party  to  the  other,  was 
then  regarded  by  the  Unionists  as  having  betrayed 
the  cause  of  the  Union.  None  of  these  things  do  I 
affirm  or  deny.  I  simply  expound  the  English  view 
on  one  side  and  the  other. 

You  will  not  understand  Mr.  Winston  Churchill 
unless  you  understand  that  the  passion  or  the  over- 
mastering impulse  and  rule  of  his  life  is  to  be  doing 
something.  His  power  of  work  is  prodigious,  almost 
commensurate  with  his  passion  for  it.  Whether 
he  ever  rests  or  ever  sleeps  I  do  not  know.  But  I 
have  seen  him  pretty  often  in  circumstances  which 
for  most  men  would  be  a  holiday,  and  for  him  were 
none.  Country-house  life  in  England  is  supposed 
to  be  a  life  of  indolence,  or  of  that  energetic  amuse- 
ment by  which  the  Englishman  recruits  his  exhausted 
energies.  Not  so  with  him.  Dunrobin,  where  there 
is  sport  of  many  kinds,  may  furnish  an  instance. 
He  was  at  that  time  writing  that  life  of  Lord  Randolph 
Churchill  which,  by  common  consent  of  the  judicious 
and  of  the  general,  is  reckoned  among  the  few  great 
biographies  in  EngHsh  literature.  He  toiled  at  it 
all  the  morning  and  part  of  the  afternoon  and,  for 
aught  I  know,  at  night  also.  His  experience  in  journal- 
ism had  taught  him  to  work  at  full  speed  at  all  times, 
and  in  no  matter  what  surroundings.  Occasionally 
he  asked  me  to  his  bedroom  to  talk  over  some  subject 
I  knew  about.  His  bedroom  had  been  turned  into 
a   literary   workshop,    strewn  with   books   and  papers 


MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  93 

and  all  the  apparatus  of  the  writer.  He  had  brought 
with  him  a  tin  box,  some  three  feet  square,  divided 
into  closed  compartments.  This  was  his  travelling 
companion  on  journeys  of  pleasure. 

Like  his  father,  he  wanted  ample  room  for  his 
materials,  and  his  hostess  had  provided  him  with 
a  large  writing-table.  This  was  covered  with  papers, 
loose  and  in  docketed  bundles,  but  all  in  exact  order 
for  ready  reference.  Now  and  then  he  gave  me  a 
chapter  to  read.  He  did  not  want  compliments, 
but  criticisms,  or  perhaps  an  opinion  on  a  doubtful 
point.  Into  this  Life  he  was  putting  all  that  was 
best  in  himself  ;  and  in  it  shine  forth  qualities  not 
always  conspicuous  in  his  party  speeches  ;  judgment, 
broad  views,  patient  accuracy,  and  a  strict  sense  of 
proportion  ;  which,  perhaps,  are  not  to  be  expected 
in  party  speeches.  If  you  queried  a  statement,  he 
always  had  a  fact  or  a  considered  opinion  to  support 
it.  His  task  was  the  more  delicate  because  Lord 
Randolph  and  Winston  had  not  always  agreed  on 
matters  which  concerned  them  both  ;  nor  did  Winston 
think  his  father's  political  course  at  the  most  critical 
moment  of  his  career  judicious  or  even  defensible, 
as  every  reader  of  his  book  may  see.  But  he  was  on 
every  point  the  most  conscientious  of  biographers, 
and,  whatever  view  he  may  have  taken  of  this  or  that 
incident,  his  Life  is  a  noble  tribute  to  his  father. 
Lord  Randolph's  fame  stands  the  higher  for  this  book. 

When  we  left  Dunrobin  we  found  that  Winston 
had  reserved  a  compartment  in  the  railway  train 
for  himself  and  for  his  big  tin  case  of  papers.  He 
shut  himself  up  there,  and  during  that  long  journey 
read  and  wrote  and  worked  as  if  a  Highland  railway 
train  were  the  natural  and  convenient  laboratory  in 
which  literature  of  a  high  order  was  to  be  distilled. 


94         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

II 

It  might  be  said  of  Mr.  Churchill,  as  the  late  Lord 
Russell  of  Killowen  said  of  Sir  George  Lewis,  that 
with  all  his  gifts  and  capacities,  the  most  remarkable 
thing  about  him  is  his  courage.  It  may  be  seen  in 
private  and  in  public  alike,  in  little  things  and  in 
great.  He  may  not  like  the  word,  but  he  is  a  born 
Nonconformist ;  a  label  which,  ecclesiastically  and 
socially,  a  Churchman  may  well  decline  to  accept 
as  applicable  to  himself  for  any  purpose.  The 
great  body  of  Mr.  Churchill's  political  supporters, 
including  the  whole,  or  nearly  the  whole,  of  his 
constituents  in  Dundee,  are,  if  you  consider  the 
Church  of  England  only,  Nonconformists.  I  assume 
that  their  Member  is  not.  I  never  heard  that  when 
he  changed  his  politics  he  changed  also  his  religion 
or  his  church,  which  many  Englishmen  would  con- 
sider the  same  thing.  But,  as  I  use  the  word  neither 
ecclesiastically  nor  socially,  nor  yet  politically,  it  is 
in  fact  descriptive  of  Mr.  Churchill. 

He  is  by  nature  and  temperament  a  Dissenter. 
His  critical  faculty  is  at  least  equal  to  his  constructive 
faculty.  He  likes  standing  alone,  apostle  of  Democracy 
though  he  be.  He  never  forgets  that  his  grandfather 
was  seventh  Duke  of  Marlborough,  and  even  when 
he  derides  and  abuses  dukes  in  general,  there  is  a 
mental  reservation  in  favour  of  the  princely  line  of 
Blenheim.  On  a  platform  his  manner  is  one  of 
authority,  and  his  appeal  is  not  to  the  sympathies 
but  sometimes  to  the  intelligence  and  very  often  to 
the  prejudices  of  his  audience.  He  stands  apart, 
aloof,  almost  alone  ;  the  blue  blood  flowing  to  his 
finger-tips,  or,  if  you  like,  to  the  tip  of  his  sharp 
tongue.      He    stirs    impatience   in   friends    and    foes 


MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  95 

alike.  Often  the  most  agreeable,  he  is  sometimes 
the  most  absorbed,  abstracted,  distrait  of  companions, 
whether  with  women  or  men  ;  unwittingly  disturbing 
the  sensibilities  of  the  more  delicate  sex.  You  may 
hear  a  sentence  now  and  then  repeated  which  fell, 
or  is  supposed  to  have  fallen,  from  the  lips  of  one 
of  the  most  gifted  of  beautiful  beings ;  a  testimony 
to  his  charm  and  a  complaint  of  his  carelessness  in 
matters  which  women  think  no  man  entitled  to  neglect. 

More  than  once  his  political  chief  has  rebuked 
him  for  assuming  functions  or  declaring  policies 
which  only  the  Prime  Minister  has  authority  to 
announce.  It  was  supposed  he  meant  to  force  Mr. 
Asquith's  hand.  I  rather  imagine  he  had  an  irresistible 
impulse  to  proclaim  the  gospel  of  the  moment  as  it 
presented  itself  to  his  own  mind.  Foreign  Affairs, 
Finance,  the  Rights  of  Labour,  the  policy  of  the 
party — nothing  comes  amiss  to  Mr.  Churchill.  Critics 
who  thought  his  administration  of  the  Home  Office 
irregular  or  fitful,  or  in  violation  of  the  fixed  traditions 
of  that  great  department,  have  gone  so  far  as  to 
suggest  that  his  control  over  all  that  complicated 
business  would  be  more  complete  if  he  allowed  his 
colleagues  to  manage  their  own  affairs.  They  insist 
that,  of  all  other  things,  he  should  suffer  the  Prime 
Minister  to  be  Prime  Minister,  and  that  Mr.  Asquith, 
under  the  friendly  guidance  of  Mr.  Redmond,  should 
direct  the  policy  of  the  Government  and  the  pro- 
cedure of  the  House  of  Commons. 

His  courage  might  often  be  called  audacity.  Early 
in  life  he  took  for  his  rule  of  life  the  tremendous 
sentence  of  Danton.  He  did  not  need  to  have  it 
tattooed  on  his  breast  like  a  sailor,  nor  embroidered 
on  his  under-vest,  as  the  Legionaries  of  Honour  are 
said  to  do  in  France  when  first  this  coveted  yet  too 


96        ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

frequent  distinction  is  given  them.  It  was  inwoven 
with  the  fabric  of  his  soul.  His  career  sparkles  with 
audacities  of  many  kinds.  I  have  known  him  challenge 
a  dignitary  of  the  Roman  Church  to  a  controversy 
on  ecclesiastical  history,  of  which  he  knew  little 
and  his  adversary  much.  But  Winston's  expertness 
in  debate  worsted  and  finally  silenced  the  dignitary 
of  the  Roman  Church. 

For  other  great  personages  he  showed  little  of 
that  deference  to  which  they  were  used.  An  amiable 
familiarity  of  address  suited  him  better  than  starched 
civilities.  "  Excellency  "  or  "  Sir  "  in  those  days 
seldom  passed  his  lips  ;  an  ambassador's  surname, 
or  even  an  abridgment  of  it  with  "  little  "  as  a 
prefix,  served  his  purpose,  even  if  it  surprised 
the  Ambassador  and  the  company.  There  is,  I 
suppose,  nobody  who  sets  greater  store  by  the  con- 
secrated courtesies  due  to  his  great  office  than  a 
diplomatist  of  high  rank ;  but  if  any  offence  was 
taken  it  was  not  shown.  In  the  presence  of  Royalty 
itself  Mr.  Churchill's  attitude  was  not  always  one  of 
restraint. 

At  Blenheim  Mr.  Winston  Churchill  has  always 
been  at  home,  and  always  had  a  suite  of  rooms  known 
as  his,  and  always  reserved  for  him.  His  abandonment 
of  the  Unionist  Party  did  not,  I  believe,  much  affect 
the  friendship  between  himself  and  his  cousin 
the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  which  had  always  been 
close.  The  Duke  is  still  a  staunch  Conservative, 
and  is  likely  to  hold  office  in  the  next  Conservative 
Government,  as  he  did  in  the  last  with  much  credit 
to  himself.  He  and  his  cousin  were  in  Paris  together 
on  a  holiday  not  long  before  Mr.  Churchill  publicly 
cast  in  his  lot  with  the  Radicals.  A  friend  who  met 
the    Duke    alone    one    morning    at    the    Ritz    asked, 


MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  97 

"  Where  is  Winston  ?  "  With  a  humorous  demand 
for  the  immediate  damnation  of  his  wayward  cousin, 
he  answered,  "  Upstairs  in  his  room,  hard  at  work." 
The  splendours  of  Paris  had  no  more  power  to  draw  him 
from  his  desk  than  had  the  splendours  of  Dunrobin. 

For  a  man  who  has  fought  his  way  to  the  top 
so  early  in  life,  Mr.  Churchill,  as  you  see,  has  shown 
little  regard  for  conventions  and  little  desire  to 
conciliate.  In  New  York  he  met  everybody,  but  he 
would  sit  in  the  midst  of  the  most  delightful  people, 
absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts.  He  would  not  admire 
the  women  he  was  expected  to  admire.  They  must 
have  not  only  beauty  and  intelligence,  but  the  par- 
ticular kind  of  beauty  and  intelligence  which  appealed 
to  him  ;  if  otherwise,  he  knew  how  to  be  silent  with- 
out meaning  to  be  rude.  It  is,  of  course,  a  consider- 
able and  a  rather  unusual  social  gift  to  be  able  to 
disappoint  the  reasonable  expectations  of  those  about 
you,  yet  offend  nobody.  It  was  useless  to  remonstrate 
with  him.  He  answered  :  "  She  is  beautiful  to  you,  but 
not  to  me."  Or  sometimes  in  Mr.  Sargent's  familiar 
retort  when  critics  could  not  discover  the  likeness  of 
a  noble  yet  unlovely  portrait  to  the  lovely  original  : 

"  I  paint  what  I  see.     I  cannot  see  her  otherwise." 

Mr.  Churchill  may  or  may  not  have  the  artist's 
eye  but  he  has  his  own ;  and  in  that,  and  not  in  the 
eyes  of  others,  does  he  put  his  trust.  It  is  the  same  in 
matters  of  judgment.  It  is  his  own  judgment  that 
he  follows,  and,  right  or  wrong,  that  is  the  only 
judgment  that  is  worth  anything  to  him. 

Upon  the  social  boycott  (if  there  be  one),  of  which 
I  wrote  the  other  day,  I  will  make  one  other  remark. 
Mr.  Churchill  married  two  or  three  years  ago  the 
daughter  of  the  late  Colonel  Sir  Henry  Hozier  and 
Lady    Blanche    Hozier,    a    girl    whom    London    had 

H 


98         ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

greatly  admired  in  her  girlhood,  and  admired  still 
more  in  the  fuller  flowering  of  her  beauty,  her  gifts 
of  mind,  and  her  charm  of  character,  after  her  mar- 
riage. A  society — any  society — which  thinks  it  de- 
sirable for  purely  political  reasons  to  deprive  itself  of 
such  an  ornament  is  the  chief  loser  by  its  intolerance. 

There  are  times  when  the  Cabinet  Minister  looks 
the  boy  he  was  on  the  river  issuing  orders  to  his  mother 
and  me.  But  he  is,  in  fact,  older  than  he  was  then. 
Of  the  changes  he  has  undergone  one  is  more  notice- 
able than  the  rest  ;  or  noticeable  when  you  look  for 
differences.  The  skull  has  filled  out  under  that 
inward  pressure  from  a  brain  which  had  to  find 
room  somewhere.  The  arch  of  the  forehead  has  a 
more  Roman  shape  ;  more  of  the  half  circle  and  less 
of  the  flatter  breadth  of  earlier  days.  The  blue  eyes 
have  become  the  eyes  of  the  thinker,  and  their  depths 
are  such  that  the  light  in  them  seems  to  come  from 
far  away. 

Not  long  ago  I  sat  opposite  this  new  Winston 
for  some  two  hours  at  a  small  round  table  where 
one  other  person  completed  the  company.  This 
third  person  was  an  American  of  renown,  with  much 
knowledge  of  the  matter  which  just  then  happened 
to  interest  us  three  and  the  rest  of  mankind,  to  use 
once  again  a  forgotten  phrase  of  General-President 
Zachary  Taylor.  The  matter  was  Mr.  Lloyd  George's 
Budget.  Mr.  Churchill  and  the  American  of  renown 
were  both,  in  a  sense,  experts  on  this  subject.  They 
had,  at  any  rate,  a  knowledge  of  the  facts  and  much 
practice  in  the  public  and  private  discussion  of  them. 

They  discussed  those  amazing  proposals  of  political 
finance  for  two  hours.  As  opponents  they  were  well 
matched,  and  neither  of  them  made  the  least  approach 
toward  converting  or  subverting  the  other.     The  sun 


MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  99 

went  down,  or  the  electric  light  went  out,  on  a  drawn 
battle.  The  methods  of  the  two  were  as  unlike  as 
their  opinions.  The  American  came  into  action 
with  all  his  forces  and  sent  resounding  volleys  into 
the  enemy,  who  nevertheless  was  not  swept  off  the 
field.  Much  familiarity  with  the  art  of  war  had  taught 
Mr.  Churchill  the  art  of  waiting,  and  when  an  opening 
came  his  single  bullet  found  its  way  home. 

What  interested  m.e  most,  as  I  listened  and  looked 
on  at  this  combat,  was  Mr.  Winston  Churchill's 
face  and  demeanour.  The  conflict  did  not  excite 
him.  He  might  have  been  sitting  in  his  library 
with  his  six  thousand  volumes  about  him,  and  thinking 
out  a  problem  of  statecraft  or  a  party  manoeuvre. 
In  the  eyes  was  the  glow,  not  of  battle,  but  of  re- 
flection. He  thought  while  his  adversary  talked, 
and  the  processes  of  thought  somehow  expressed 
themselves  on  the  smooth  expanse  of  brow.  You 
may  stand  sometimes  on  the  upper  engine  deck  of 
a  steamship,  and  watch  through  a  sheet  of  plate  glass 
the  pulsing  of  the  machinery  below.  It  was  so  here. 
If  you  did  not  see  you  felt  the  working  of  a  great 
intellectual  force. 

The  scene  passed,  indeed,  as  upon  a  stage.  We 
were  dining  at  the  Ritz,  and  the  room  was  thronged 
with  well-known  people.  Mr.  Balfour  sat  not  far  off, 
a  glance  of  inquiry  coming  our  way  at  times  ;  possibly 
wondering  whether  he  might  not  better  have  given 
his  former  follower  the  Cabinet  office  he  wanted. 
With  a  keener  eye  for  the  future  and  a  surer  guess  at 
the  growth  of  this  young  man's  capacity  for  politics, 
who  knows  but  the  Unionist  chief  might  have  kept 
the  mutineer  in  his  proper  camp  ?  It  was  evident 
enough  to  all  these  lookers-on  that  a  duel  was  in 
progress  between  Churchill  and  the  American,  known 


loo       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

to  many  of  them  as  Mr.  Bourke  Cockran,  with  a 
great  fame  as  a  talker,  in  London  not  less  than  in 
New  York  and  in  Washington  and  on  Long  Island. 
There  was  no  group  in  the  room  which  so  much  at- 
tracted men  and  women  alike  as  this  pair  of  athletes  ; 
themselves  aware  only  of  each  other,  and  of  the  struggle 
over  the  arid  details  of  finance  which  they,  like  Mr. 
Gladstone,  knew  how  to  make  fascinating,  even  to 
minds  which  cared  not  greatly  for  figures  or  fiscal 
puzzles.  Since  then,  night  after  night  and  twice  or 
three  times  a  day  during  the  last  election,  Mr. 
Churchill  has  spoken  on  these  dry  matters  to  hard- 
headed  Lancashire  audiences  and  captivated  them  all. 
The  Home  Office  was  his  reward,  and  in  the  Home 
Office,  as  at  the  Board  of  Trade  and  throughout 
his  adventurous  career,  he  kept  the  public  guessing  ; 
and  the  question  was  for  ever  on  all  lips  :  "  What  will 
he  do  next  ?  " 

Presently  the  question  answered  itself.  It  was 
thought  advisable  that  Mr.  McKenna  should  leave 
the  Admiralty,  and  so  Mr.  Churchill  suddenly  became 
First  Lord.  Another  surprise,  or  rather  two  sur- 
prises ;  the  second  being  that  the  new  First  Lord, 
though  not  known  as  a  friend  to  an  adequate  Navy, 
left  his  Radical  or  Little  England  prejudices  behind 
him  at  the  door  of  the  Admiralty,  and  within  a  few 
weeks  had  reorganized,  if  not  revolutionized,  the 
naval  policy  of  the  Government.  He  set  himself  to 
restore  the  discipline  and  efficiency  which  under  Mr. 
McKenna  had  been  impaired  ;  to  restore  the  tone 
of  the  Navy  ;  to  create  a  War  Staff  ;  and  to  put  the 
business  of  the  Navy  on  a  business  basis.  What  he 
will  do  on  the  other  vital  matter  of  building  battle- 
ships and  cruisers  and  destroyers  is  not  known  as  I 
write  ;  nor  does  it  depend  wholly  on  him.     But,  if 


MR.  WINSTON  CHURCHILL  loi 

I  understand  Mr.  Churchill,  he  is  not  the  man  to 
put  his  hand  to  a  great  and  patriotic  work  and  with- 
draw it  before  the  work  is  done. 

Moreover,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  his  trans- 
ference from  the  Home  Office  to  the  Admiralty  was 
less  sudden  than  it  seemed.  Wise  men  in  Whitehall 
will  tell  you  that  for  many  months  before  he  became 
First  Lord  Mr.  Churchill  had  been  often  a  visitor 
at  the  Admiralty,  and  that  he  had  studied  the  or- 
ganization and  business  of  that  great  office.  If  he 
did  that,  it  certainly  was  not  with  a  view  to  careless 
administration  when  he  took  charge.  His  worst 
enemies  do  not  deny  to  him  ambition,  nor  doubt 
that  to  whatever  station  in  public  life  he  may  be 
called,  he  means  in  that  station  to  achieve  success. 
To  success  sound  administration  is  the  only  road, 
and  sound  administration  at  the  Admiralty  means 
a  Navy  equal  to  the  work  it  has  to  do. 

In  Mr.  George  Peel's  The  Future  of  England, 
lately  published,  a  piece  of  concise  thinking  pic- 
turesquely phrased,  occurs  a  passage  which  Mr. 
Churchill's  Radical  friends  may  read  with  profit. 
Says  Mr.  Peel  : 

"  In  that  danger  zone  where  argument  dies  away 
and  only  might  flourishes,  we  have  initiated  the  re- 
organization of  our  armaments  ;  remembering  that, 
of  all  the  gods  and  goddesses,  only  one  never  lays  aside 
her  spear  and  shield  and  helmet.  It  is  the  goddess  of 
wisdom." 

With  that  goddess  the  advocates  of  a  stingy  ship- 
building policy  have  perhaps  no  very  intimate  ac- 
quaintance. But  since  they  have  votes  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  it  will  be  Mr.  Churchill's  first  business, 
when  he  introduces  his  naval  estimates,  to  improve 
the  relations  between  them. 


UNIVEKSITY   (•^'  v  /vt,lK>KNlA 
■JJITA  BAHiiAKA  COLLKGfcJ  UBBABI 


CHAPTER    IX 

SIR  EDWARD  GREY— A  PERSONAL  AND  DIPLOMATIC 
IMPRESSION 

'T^WICE  last  year  it  happened  to  Sir  Edward  Grey 
to  become,  in  a  moment,  and  for  a  moment,  and 
in  one  instance  apparently  by  accident,  the  most  con- 
spicuous figure  in  the  British  political  world.  He 
w^as  already,  and  had  long  been,  a  personage  of  dis- 
tinction in  public  life,  and  also  in  private.  But  I 
cannot  remember  that,  until  he  made  in  the  House  of 
Commons  his  speech  on  Arbitration,  he  had  ever 
concentrated  public  attention  on  himself  as  one  of  the 
few  men  in  the  Ministry,  or  in  public  life,  who  are  to 
be  reckoned  with  permanently.  The  impression  he 
then  made  was  renewed  and  strengthened  by  his  more 
recent  speech  on  the  Moroccan  question.  The  quiet 
power  with  which  he  then  vindicated  the  position  and 
diplomatic  action  of  Great  Britain  showed  him  a 
stronger  man  than  his  best  friends  had  suspected  him 
to  be.  Before  that  there  had  been  hints  of  indecision, 
of  over-caution,  of  a  preference  for  tentative  policies. 
But  now,  without  a  note  of  passion  or  an  incorrect 
phrase,  he  put  Germany  in  her  place  ;  where  she  has 
since  stayed.  Mr.  Gladstone  said  of  him  long  ago  that 
he  might  be  anything  he  chose,  but  that  he  chose  to 
go  fishing.  He  still  goes  fishing,  and  has  written  a 
book  on  that  gentle  art,  which  is  an  authority,  and  is 
still  an  example  of  one  of  the  best  types  among  the 


SIR  EDWARD  GREY  103 

English  ;  the  country  gentleman.  But  he  is  much 
else  than  that,  Radical  Northumberland  being  his 
home. 

Last  summer  some  of  the  limelight  which  was 
turned  so  freely  on  Mr.  Roosevelt  fell  incidentally 
on  Sir  Edward  Grey,  though  it  is  not  a  thing  he  cares 
for.  There  was  something  novel  and  unexpectedly 
human  in  the  Foreign  Secretary's  serving  as  guide  to 
the  ex-President  through  the  mazes  of  the  New  Forest 
and  introducing  the  naturalist-hunter  of  the  United 
States  to  the  birds  and  flowers  of  Great  Britain.  It 
was  an  agreeable  episode  in  both  those  lives.  The 
stalwart  Britons — and  there  were  many  of  them — 
who  could  not  forgive  Mr.  Roosevelt  for  his  lecture 
at  the  Guildhall  and  his  admonition  to  them  to  do 
for  Egypt  what  Mr.  Roosevelt  thought  right,  or  get 
out,  took  a  kinder  view  of  him  when  he  made  friends 
with  Nature  on  the  intercession  of  Sir  Edward  Grey. 
And  the  state  of  feeling  here  was  for  some  time  such 
that  Mr.  Roosevelt's  debt  to  his  New  Forest  friend 
was  considerable. 

I  first  met  Sir  Edward  Grey  at  Tring  Park,  Lord 
Rothschild's  delightful  place  in  Buckinghamshire,  a 
house  with  which  many  other  similar  memories  con- 
nect themselves.  The  date  I  cannot  give  you,  but 
what  matters  the  date  ?  It  was  the  event  which 
mattered  ;  it  is  always  the  event  ;  the  meeting  with 
some  new  human  being  of  interest  ;  the  new  ex- 
perience ;  the  new  view  of  life  at  an  angle  different 
from  any  earlier  view  ;  the  revision  of  hearsay  im- 
pressions in  the  presence  of  the  man  himself.  But  it 
must  have  been  before  I  left  England  in  1895  ;  and 
between  1892  and  1895  when  Sir  Edward  was  Under- 
Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs  in  the  ministries  of  Mr. 
Gladstone  and  of  Lord  Rosebery.     Prior  to  that  he 


I04       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

had  held  no  office.  When  he  entered  the  Foreign 
Office  Lord  Rosebery  was  Foreign  A'linister  and  the 
new  Under-Secretary  had  the  advantage  of  serving 
his  apprenticeship  to  diplomacy  under  Lord  Rosebery, 
the  most  accomplished  of  Foreign  Ministers  in  recent 
times,  Lord  Salisbury  alone  excepted  ;  with  a  reputa- 
tion abroad  second  only  to  Lord  Salisbury's,  and  held 
upon  the  Continent  to  be  a  lineal  diplomatic  descen- 
dant of  Lord  Palmerston,  who  is  still,  to  most  good 
Britons,  ultimus  Romanorum.  Lord  Palmerston  be- 
queathed to  Lord  Rosebery  his  conception  of  the 
British  fleet  as  the  chief  European  instrument  of 
peace.    They  both  used  it  as  such. 

So,  it  is  true,  did  Lord  Salisbury,  but  he  is  remem- 
bered most  vividly  of  all  as  author  of  the  saying  that 
the  British  fleet  could  not  climb  the  mountains  of 
Armenia.  It  was  one  of  those  sentences  uttered  by 
Lord  Salisbury  in  his  most  epigrammatic  mood,  in- 
tended and  adapted  to  cool  the  hysterical  enthusiasms 
of  the  sentimental  factions  which  were  wont  to  de- 
mand impossibiHties  both  of  the  Minister  and  of  the 
fleet.  It  was  a  counsel  of  sense  and  prudence  like  so 
many  of  those  by  which  Prince  Bismarck  kept  the 
Prussian  generals  in  order,  after  Koniggratz  and  after 
Sedan.  But  a  Minister  who  sets  himself  to  stem  the 
tide  of  popular  or  military  feeling  in  the  moment  of 
victory  must  expect  to  be  denounced  as  preferring 
peace  to  honour.  Denounced  he  was,  and  little  he 
cared  for  the  denunciation.  But  history  sometimes 
sets  a  black  mark  against  the  name  of  such  a  Minister, 
unfairly  and  untruly ;  nor  even  for  that  need  he 
care.  These  are  days  when  all  historical  judgments  are 
subject  to  revision. 

But  to  go  back  to  Tring.     Sir  Edward  Grey  could 
not  then  have  been    much    more  than  thirty.     He 


SIR  EDWARD  GREY  105 

looked  even  younger  till  you  noted  the  thought- 
fulness  of  the  face,  the  lines  of  thought  already  visible  ; 
sketched  if  not  incised.  Tall,  straight,  erect,  with  the 
bearing  of  a  man  on  whom  the  stamp  of  the  patrician 
was  plainly  set.  It  was  a  face  which  the  winds  of 
heaven  had  visited.  There  was,  and  is,  something 
Norman  in  the  features ;  they  are  high,  clean  cut, 
finely  modelled  ;  such  as  Duke  William  of  Normandy 
and  his  knights  might  have  brought  with  them  to 
England  and  bequeathed. 

There  are  men  of  whom  you  say  when  first  seen 
that  they  are  both  thinkers  and  men  of  action.  You 
would  have  said  that  of  Sir  Edward  Grey,  and  you 
would  have  been  wrong.  Man  of  action  he  has  never 
been,  in  the  sense  which  made  Palmerston  and  Bis- 
marck men  of  action  before  and  above  all.  It  may 
not  be  quite  fair  to  try  anybody  by  those  high  stan- 
dards, but  how  otherwise  are  you  to  take  a  man's 
measure  ?  Young  as  Sir  Edward  Grey  then  was, 
and  holding  only  a  subordinate  post  in  the  Foreign 
Ofhce,  you  nevertheless  felt  that  he  was  in  his  right 
place.  The  first  business  of  a  diplomatist  is  not  to 
make  war  but  to  avoid  war.  To  keep  the  peace  is  the 
test  of  his  capacity.  He  was  obviously  a  man  who 
brooded  over  the  problems  presented  to  him.  Deep 
on  his  front  engraven,  deliberation  sat.  The  group  of 
people  in  the  smoking-room  were  talking,  as  is  the 
habit  of  groups  in  smoking-rooms.  Sir  Edward  stood 
on  the  hearth  -  rug  listening,  reflecting,  weighing 
opinions  and  characters.  Now  and  then  his  eye 
wandered  to  Mr.  Waldo  Story's  marble  bas-reliefs  of 
Greek  goddesses  which  line  the  four  walls.  A  winged 
Victory  looked  down  from  the  prow  of  the  marble 
ship  above  the  chimney-piece.  But  I  take  it  not 
victory   nor    the    means    to   victory,    but    the    means 


io6       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

whereby  alike  victory  and  defeat  might  be  escaped, 
were  what  filled  his  mind. 

None  of  all  this  would  he  have  told  you.  He  was  a 
man  who  had  ever  the  rare  power  of  keeping  his 
thoughts  to  himself  ;  as  if  they  matured  better  in 
his  own  brain  than  by  contact  with  the  thoughts  of 
others.  It  seemed  then,  and  it  has  seemed  ever  since, 
that  he  had  something  of  the  Sphinx  in  him  : 

Who'll  tell  me  my  secret 
The  ages  have  kept  ? 

Sympathetic  as  he  was,  he  stood  aloof.  He  has  stood 
so  ever  since. 

With  her  husband  was  Lady  Grey  ;  since  dead  ;  and 
the  memory  of  her  is  a  pathetic  memory.  A  stately 
figure  in  black  velvet ;  beautiful,  attaching  ;  like  her 
husband  sympathetic,  and  like  him  remote  yet  sur- 
rounded by  admiration.  That  was  the  atmosphere  in 
which  she  lived.  It  was  a  true  nobility  of  nature  to 
which  this  homage  was  paid.  Upon  him  her  influence, 
if  you  may  believe  those  who  knew  them  best,  was 
constant  and  always  for  good.  It  was  Sir  Edward's 
way  to  take  detached  views.  Lady  Grey  came  close 
to  the  things  of  real  life  ;  understood  them,  and 
understood  that  no  man  ever  gains  his  full  stature 
in  seclusion.  Hers  was  the  kind  of  power  worth  a 
hundred  times  the  power  a  capable  woman  can  wield 
by  help  of  a  piece  of  printed  paper  called  a  ballot. 
Character,  not  the  vote,  is  what  tells. 

Lady  Grey,  if  I  understood  her  at  all,  had  a  wise 
patience,  rare  in  either  man  or  woman.  She  was 
content  to  use  such  means  as  came  to  her  hand.  In 
herself,  and  through  him  in  their  closeness  of  intel- 
lectual companionship,  she  had  an  authority  which 
suffragists  will  never  get  from  the  suffrage  ;  nor  from 
any  other  source.     The  loss  of  an  influence  so  benefi- 


SIR  EDWARD  GREY  107 

cent  as  hers  is  an  irreparable  loss.  Nor  did  the  part 
she  elected  to  play  diminish  her  womanly  charm,  but 
enhanced  it.  Never  was  it  defiled  by  the  dust  of  the 
arena  ;  never  debased  by  the  tumult  of  the  market- 
place. 

It  was  as  a  friend  of  Lord  Rosebery  that  Sir 
Edward  Grey  finally  accepted  the  post  of  Foreign 
Minister  in  Sir  Henry  Campbell-Bannerman's  ad- 
ministration of  1905.  He  has  been  Foreign  Minister 
ever  since.  He  w^as,  in  the  first  instance,  one  of  Lord 
Rosebery's  "  Ambassadors  "  to  a  Power,  a  Ministry 
which  to  Lord  Rosebery  had  become  foreign.  The 
others  were  Mr.  Asquith — ^how  strange  that  name  in 
that  connection  now  seems  ! — Lord  Haldane,  and  Sir 
Henry  Fowler,  afterwards  Lord  Wolverhampton,  de- 
ceased only  last  year.  Sir  Edward  then  passed  as  a 
Moderate ;  a  strong,  dry,  useful  man.  What  else 
than  a  Moderate  could  a  friend  and  pupil  of  Lord 
Rosebery  be  ?  Sir  Henry  Campbell-Bannerman  was 
not  a  Moderate  ;  then  nor  ever  ;  it  was  not  in  him 
to  be  ;  and  Sir  Edward  Grey's  first  refusal  of  the 
Foreign  Office  as  colleague  to  that  shrewd  Scot  was 
understood  to  be  on  account  of  his  Radicalism.  It 
was  believed  to  be  upon  the  late  King's  intervention 
that  he  accepted. 

I  know  not,  but  what  we  all  know  now  is  that  the 
effect  of  Sir  Edward  Grey's  opinion  on  domestic 
affairs  has  ceased  to  be  a  moderating  effect.  He  has 
become,  since  1906,  a  Radical  of  the  Radicals.  His 
public  speeches  on  the  Budget,  on  the  Parliament 
Bill,  on  Home  Rule,  and  on  Woman  Suffrage,  are 
those  of  a  man  prepared  to  go  all  lengths.  The  con- 
servatism which  once  was  his  in  English  politics  he 
now  keeps  for  affairs  abroad  ;  where  no  man  with 
knowledge  and  judgment  can  be  anything  but  Con- 


io8       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

servative.  Yet  even  in  Foreign  Affairs  Sir  Edward 
became  at  one  critical  moment  an  extremist.  It  was 
he  who  announced  to  Europe  when  Austria  annexed 
Bosnia  and  Herzegovina  that  annexation  required  the 
assent  of  the  signatory  Powers  to  the  Treaty  of  BerHn, 
and  that  the  act  which  Austria  had  done  of  her  own 
motion  could  not  be  held  valid  till  ratified  by  a  Con- 
ference of  these  Powers.  Alas  !  he  had  to  look  on 
while  European  Powers  gave  their  separate  assent, 
each  for  reasons  sufficient  to  each,  and  till  the  assent 
of  England  no  longer  mattered.  Count  Aerenthal, 
and  not  Sir  Edward  Grey,  was  the  victor  in  that 
encounter. 

Sir  Henry  Lucy,  with  his  usual  felicity  of  char- 
acterization, once  labelled  Sir  Edward  "  The  Veiled 
Prophet  of  the  Treasury  Bench."  It  was  a  picturesque 
and  accurate  description  if  limited  to  the  days  before 
he  made  his  Radical  speeches.  Now  the  veil  has  been 
torn  off  and  the  prophecies  are  like  other  prophecies  : 
useful  in  debate  because  nobody  can  contradict  them. 

A  Minister  who  has  stood  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Lloyd 
George  in  the  Albert  Hall,  and  spoken  as  Sir  Edward 
Grey  spoke  for  the  Woman's  Revolution,  has  renounced 
once  and  for  all  his  Conservatism  of  other  days.  He 
renounces,  on  that  gravest  of  all  issues,  his  allegiance 
to  the  Prime  Aiinister.  He  ranges  himself  with  the 
forces  of  disorder  and  destruction.  He  is  the  ally 
of  a  man  who  is  for  a  new  policy  of  Thorough  :  more 
menacing,  as  well-wishers  of  England  think,  than 
Strafford's ;  menacing  not  only  to  the  liberties  but  to 
the  existence  of  this  ancient  Commonwealth.  What- 
ever exists,  exists  to  be  abolished,  and  anything  is 
good  enough  to  rebuild  with,  provided  it  has  never 
been  tried.  The  dragging  of  women  into  politics  is  a 
cause   for  which   American   precedents    are   invoked. 


SIR  EDWARD  GREY  109 

Well,  it  is  true  enough  that  five  or  six  American  States 
have  adopted  Woman  Suffrage  ;  California  the  most 
recent  of  them.  But  they  are  all  States  on  the  Pacific 
coast  or  the  Pacific  slope  ;  in  all  of  which  government, 
so  far  as  the  States  themselves  are  concerned,  is  in  an 
experimental  and  fluid  state.  They  have  embarked  on 
other  political  adventures  in  the  same  spirit  of  easy- 
confidence.  So  loose  is  the  organic  structure  of  those 
societies  that  one  or  another  part  of  the  fabric  may 
be  disturbed  without  much  impairing  the  cohesive 
energy  of  the  whole.  It  is  idle  to  argue  from  com- 
munities still  in  the  cradle  to  a  country  like  England 
of  which  the  institutions  are  the  deliberate  growth  of 
centuries.  But  for  an  exposition  of  the  fallacies  under- 
lying the  citation  of  these  American  excursions  into 
uncharted  seas  I  need  only  refer  to  Mrs.  Humphry 
Ward's  impregnable  letters  to  The  Times. 

It  is  pleasanter  to  pass  from  that  and  to  come  back 
to  Anglo-American  matters.  In  those,  if  no  more  in 
domestic  matters,  he  is  Conservative.  His  two  Arbitra- 
tion speeches  and  the  settled  purpose  of  which  they 
were  the  expression,  endear  him  to  Americans.  It 
may  be  true  that  Sir  Edward  chose  that  moment  in 
which  to  make  a  party  move.  Mr.  Asquith,  who 
would  otherwise  have  spoken  in  that  debate  instead 
of  his  Foreign  Minister,  was  in  Switzerland,  by  his 
daughter's  bedside.  A  conflict  was  expected  on  the 
naval  estimates,  not  only  between  the  Government 
and  the  Opposition,  but  between  the  two  wings  of  the 
Ministerial  forces,  of  which  one  is  known  as  the 
Little  Navy  wing.  It  was  an  awkward  crisis.  How  is 
a  Minister  to  face  his  enemies  in  front  when  half  the 
army  behind  him  is  on  the  point  of  mutiny — has,  in 
fact,  already  mutinied  ? 

With  a  fine  gift  of  strategy  Sir  Edward  turned  the 


no       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

attention  of  the  House  and  of  the  pubHc  away  from 
the  question  of  Dreadnoughts  to  Arbitration  :   Arbi- 
tration  as   a   sudden,   substantial,   practical  issue   of 
international  politics.     Months  had  passed  since  the 
President  had  announced  his  desire  for  an  agreement 
"  with  some  great  nation  "  for  an  Arbitral  Court  to 
adjudicate  on  every  question  which  cannot  be  settled 
by  negotiation,  including  even  territory  and  national 
honour.     It  is  not  clear  that  England  is  prepared  to 
entrust   her   territory   and    national   honour   to   the 
Hague  Tribunal  or  any  other  tribunal.     It  is  quite 
clear   that   the   United   States   will   not   submit   the 
Monroe  doctrine  to  arbitration.     So  perhaps  we  may 
consider   that   part   of   President   Taft's   proposal   as 
not  much  more  than  a  pious  aspiration,  or  an  "  un- 
wearied pursuit  of  unattainable  perfection."    Enough 
is  left  for  the  practical  policy  of  Arbitration.     Mr. 
Taft  is  no  fanatic  ;  no  visionary  ;  but  a  sober-minded 
magistrate  who  knows  that   States   are  governed  in 
their  relations  with  other  States  by  a  policy  of  en- 
lightened   self-interest  ;     and    cannot    be    governed 
otherwise.    One  of  the  interests  of  Great  Britain  and 
the  United  States  is,  to  his  mind,  a  good  and  clear 
understanding  of  what  they  have  in  common.     His 
appeal  was  an  overture  of  friendship.     The  Foreign 
Minister  of  England  grasped  that  outstretched  Presi- 
dential hand.    Then  Mr.  Balfour  grasped  it.    Then  all 
England  cried  out  to  these  two  leaders,  "  Well  done  !  " 
and  then  America  said  "  Amen  !  "    Sir  Edward  Grey, 
in  the  absence  of  the  Prime  Minister  who  might  or 
might    not   have   seized   this    occasion,    had   pledged 
Government  and  the  governed  alike  to  the  President's 
policy. 

Seldom  has  any  Minister  achieved  so  great  a  triumph 
by  a  single  speech.     But  what  I  ask  you  to  notice  is 


SIR  EDWARD  GREY  iii 

that  to  no  Minister  would  the  confidence  of  the 
country  have  been  given  in  whom  the  country  had 
not  confidence  already.  Here  again  it  is  character 
which  counts.  Here  again  it  is  the  governing  class 
which  speaks  through  Sir  Edward  Grey.  His  pledge 
is  personal  as  well  as  governmental.  He  and  the 
President  are  of  the  same  mould  ;  two  men  who 
understand  each  other  and  come  together  on  a  great 
Anglo-American  issue,  perhaps  the  greatest  of  all, 
because  they  are  built  alike  and  because  the  soul  of 
each  is  a  soul  of  truth  and  honour. 


CHAPTER   X 

VISCOUNT      HALDANE,      WAR      MINISTER,      META- 
PHYSICIAN, LAWYER,  AND  SOCIALISTIC  RADICAL 

"  T  WHO  know  Kant  by  heart." 

It  is  Lord  Haldane  who  is  speaking,  and  the 
speech  is  a  characteristic  one,  or  characteristic  of  one 
side  of  him.  Somebody  had  undertaken  to  expound 
to  him  the  mysteries  of  German  metaphysics,  and  this 
was  his  answer — the  beginning  of  his  answer,  at  the 
end  of  which  the  expounder  departed  unhappy. 
Whether  he  does  in  truth  know  the  whole  of  the 
Critique  oj  Pure  Reason  by  heart  or  not,  he  has  at  any 
rate  an  acquaintance  with  German  philosophy  more 
full  and  minute  and  exact  and  comprehensive  than 
most  Englishmen.  Whether  it  fits  him  or  unfits  him 
for  his  duties  as  War  Minister  may  be  a  question.  Of 
the  fact  there  is  no  question.  Not  one  of  his  colleagues 
is  in  this  respect  his  rival.  Not  one  of  his  opponents 
on  the  Front  Bench  has  a  similar  turn  of  mind,  except 
the  author  of  the  Defence  of  Philosofhic  Doubt.  But 
neither  in  Mr.  Balfour's  case  nor  in  Lord  Haldane's 
is  it  thought  that  the  meditations  of  the  closet  add 
much  to  their  efficiency  as  debaters  or  political  leaders. 
Indeed,  a  question  might  be  asked  more  broadly 
still ;  the  question  whether  on  the  whole  and  with  all 
due  recognition  of  Germany's  position  in  the  world 
of  thought,  it  really  is  good  for  the  English  mind  to 
be  Germanized.  If  there  be  an  authority  entitled  to 
respect  in  such  matters  it  is  Huxley's,  whose  range 


VISCOUNT  HALDANE  113 

was  far  wider  than  that  of  the  mere  specialist.  Huxley 
was  asked  whether  Science  did  in  fact  owe  as  much 
to  Germany  as  the  Germans  tell  you.     He  answered  : 

"  In  the  accumulation  of  facts,  yes.  In  the  use 
made  of  them,  no.  They  are  at  the  head  of  the  world 
in  methods  of  investigation  and  in  the  completeness 
of  it.  But  in  those  constructive  processes  on  which 
everything  most  valuable  in  science  depends,  the 
French  are  their  superiors  and  the  English  are  their 
superiors.  It  is  by  these  two  peoples,  the  French  and 
the  English,  that  the  fabric  of  science  has  been  built 
up." 

It  is  Schopenhauer  and  not  Kant  with  whom  Lord 
Haldane  is  most  closely  identified.  He  translated  and 
published  many  years  ago  Schopenhauer's  World  as 
Will  arid  Idea,  a  kind  of  Handbook  to  Schopenhauer. 
He  made  the  great  apostle  of  despair  the  delight  of 
English  maidens  and  young  matrons.  I  have  met 
many  a  one  who  talked  Schopenhauer  fluently,  and 
sometimes  one  or  more  who  had  mastered  him  and 
knew  what  his  system  really  meant  and  what  his  in- 
fluence on  life  and  thought  had  been.  I  once  said 
so  to  Lord  Haldane,  who  answered  :  "  You  have  a 
wide  acquaintance." 

That  is  No.  i.  The  Lord  Haldane  whom  the 
British  public  knows  is  better  indicated  by  anecdote 
No.  2,  as  follows  : 

When  the  new  Minister  of  War  introduced  in  the 
House  of  Commons  his  Bill  for  the  reorganization  of 
the  British  army  he  made  a  speech  five  hours  long  ;  a 
speech  crowded  with  facts,  with  figures,  with  com- 
plicated expositions  of  the  new  scheme  as  a  whole  and 
in  detail ;  the  whole  consecutive  and  luminous.  In 
answer  to  a  question  he  said  : 

"  Yes,  I  made  it  without  a  note.     I  had  nothing  in 


114       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

writing,  not  even  a  page  of  figures.  But  that  is  nothing. 
In  the  days  when  I  was  busy  at  the  Bar  I  have  some- 
times gone  into  court  not  knowing  which  one  of  half 
a  dozen  causes  would  come  on  that  day,  but  quite 
ready  to  go  on  with  any  one  of  them,  and  not  a  note 
in  any  one  of  the  six." 

They  were  causes  of  importance  and  difiiculty,  for 
his  practice  lay  in  the  Court  of  Appeals,  the  Privy 
Council,  and  the  House  of  Lords.  The  considered 
decisions  of  these  courts  are  sometimes  published  in 
The  Times,  and  fill  six  or  eight  columns,  closely 
printed  in  small  type.  I  imagine  that  not  many 
barristers  concerned  in  cases  of  that  magnitude  dealt 
with  them  in  the  same  way.  But  Lord  Haldane  was 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  most  successful 
among  them  all. 

He  entered  the  Campbell-Bannerman  Cabinet  an 
Ambassador  from  Lord  Rosebery,  as  did  Mr.  Asquith 
himself  and  Sir  Edward  Grey.  They  remained  as 
hostages.  They  are  to-day  neither  Ambassadors  nor 
hostages  but  component  parts  of  the  Radical  force 
which  is  dominant  alike  in  Cabinet  and  party.  They 
took  the  stump  for  Mr.  Lloyd  George's  Budget. 
They  joined  in  the  campaign  against  the  House  of 
Lords,  the  sole  check  in  this  country  upon  revolu- 
tionary legislation.  They  acquiesced  in  Mr.  Asquith's 
surrender  to  Mr.  Redmond  and  his  declaration  for 
Home  Rule.  I  offer  no  criticism  on  any  of  these 
performances.  I  only  chronicle  them,  and  I  only  do 
that  because  they  explain,  and  nothing  else  can  ex- 
plain, the  change  in  Haldane's  political  position. 

With  his  soft  manner  and  smooth  voice  and  philo- 
sophical turn  of  mind,  he  may  not  impress  you  as  a 
man  designed  by  Providence  to  destroy  an  army  and 
then  to  create  and  govern  another.     But  there  have 


VISCOUNT  HALDANE  115 

been  such  men  before  now,  and  it  is  not  a  matter  on 
which  a  civilian's  opinion  is  of  prime  importance. 
The  soldiers  say — or  some  of  them  say — ^he  has  handled 
the  technical  part  of  the  business  in  a  very  competent 
way.  Perhaps  it  is  too  soon  to  be  quite  sure.  The 
German  staff  are  reported  to  be  pleased  with  his 
scheme,  but  their  pleasure  is  an  equivocal  eulogy. 
The  German  Emperor  invited  him  to  be  present  at 
the  great  manoeuvres  of  last  autumn  and  paid  the 
English  War  Minister  compliments,  the  precise  value 
of  which  seems,  for  the  same  reason,  doubtful.  We 
are  assured  that  the  Committee  of  Imperial  Defence, 
with  its  world-wide  authority,  is  satisfied  that  the 
Minister  has  done  what  is  possible.  But  Lord  Esher, 
himself  a  permanent  member  of  the  great  Army 
Council,  has  lately  said  that,  to  put  the  Territorials 
into  working  order,  sixty  thousand  recruits  must  come 
in  yearly,  and  that  no  such  number  can  be  had. 

There  is,  however,  one  English  soldier,  not  a  member 
of  that  committee,  but  excluded  from  it,  whose 
opinion  would  probably  go  further  with  the  English 
public  than  all  others.  I  mean  Lord  Kitchener.  But 
Lord  Kitchener  does  not  take  the  public  into  his 
confidence. 

I  met  Lord  Haldane  at  a  party  in  London  some 
two  years  ago.  You  do  not  expect  much  serious  dis- 
cussion in  a  throng  of  that  kind,  but  he  made  a  remark 
which  led  me  to  say  I  should  like  to  ask  him  one 
question. 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  know  how  it  is  that  an  army  is 
to  be  made  better  by  abolishing  some  of  the  best 
battalions  in  it." 

Just  then  a  lady  came  toward  us  to  whom  he  wished 
to  speak,  and  my  question  was  left  unanswered.    "  We 


ii6       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

will  discuss  it  some  other  time,"  said  Lord  Haldane. 
But  that  other  time  has  not  yet  arrived.  I  asked  the 
question  because  I  had  a  friend  or  two  in  the  battalions 
marked  for  destruction.  The  3rd  Battalion  of  the 
Scots  Guards  was  one.  It  was  admittedly  one  of  the 
finest  in  the  service.  A  little  later  I  dined  at  the  mess 
of  the  officers  on  guard  duty  at  St.  James's  Palace.  It 
was  a  dinner  of  eight,  including  two  civilians — the 
other  a  man  well  known  about  the  Court  and  formerly 
private  secretary  to  Lord  Salisbury.  From  begin- 
ning to  end  not  one  of  the  officers  said  a  word 
about  their  impending  fate.  Where  else  could  this 
reserve  have  been  kept  ?  What  made  their  silence 
the  more  remarkable  was  the  fact  that  they  all  knew, 
though  my  civilian  friend  and  I  did  not  know,  that  the 
battalion  had  received  orders  to  report  at  Buckingham 
Palace  next  morning,  there  to  be  mustered  out  by  the 
late  King.  It  was,  in  fact,  mustered  out  on  that 
Saturday  morning.  The  late  King  undertook  this 
duty  as  the  highest  compliment  he  could  pay  the  bat- 
talion. When  they  surrendered  their  colours  he  received 
them,  saying  they  should  be  safely  kept  till  they  could 
again  be  delivered  into  the  care  of  a  battalion  which 
had  carried  them  always  with  distinction.  Every 
soldier  was  grateful  to  the  King  for  those  words. 
His  praise  was  understood  to  mean  that  he  hoped 
and  expected  the  battalion  would  presently  be  called 
into  being  once  more.  Whether  Lord  Haldane  was 
grateful  I  do  not  know.  The  criticism  was  obvious. 
The  King  was  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  army,  and 
he  clearly  meant  to  signify  his  disapproval  of  the  dis- 
solution of  the  battalion. 

In  private  life  Lord  Haldane  used  to  be  known  not 
only  for  agreeable  and  brilliant  qualities,  but  for  an 
independence  of  opinion  and  life  rare  in  this  country. 


VISCOUNT  HALDANE  117 

The  opinion  of  the  multitude  was  not  his.  Even  in 
such  matters  as  dress  he  showed  himself  careless  of 
custom.  Whether  this  mutinous  spirit  had  anything 
to  do  with  his  project  of  army  reconstruction  must  be 
left  for  others  to  say. 

I  thought  Lord  Haldane  entitled  to  be  called  a 
Socialist  Radical  even  before  he  declared  for  woman 
suffrage.  If  it  were  questioned  before  it  cannot  be 
questioned  now.  To  this  point  has  philosophy  led 
Lord  Haldane  as  it  has  led  Mr.  Balfour ;  or,  if  it  has 
not  led  them,  it  has  not  hindered  them.  There  is  not 
in  English  history  or  in  any  other  history  any  revolu- 
tionary movement  so  revolutionary  as  this.  Lord 
Haldane,  Mr.  Balfour,  Sir  Edward  Grey,  and  other 
men  who  on  many  great  questions  are  moderate  and 
sane,  deal  with  this  in  a  light-hearted  way  which  it  were 
no  slander  to  call  flippant.  The  foundations  of  society 
are  to  be  broken  up,  experimentally.  The  balance  of 
political  power  is  to  be  transferred  from  one  class  to 
another.  It  has  been  done  before  where  only  classes 
were  concerned  ;  done  with  agony  and  the  sweat  of 
blood  and  political  convulsions.  Now,  when  it  is 
made  an  issue  between  the  sexes,  and  the  family  which 
is  the  unit  of  English  life  is  to  cease  to  exist,  the 
matter  is  handled  with  levity.  The  Prime  Minister 
believes  and  says  it  will  be  disastrous,  but  flings  the 
reins  on  the  neck  of  his  Cabinet  to  drive  where  they 
will.  Lord  Haldane  may  consider  no  issue  of  practical 
politics  comparable  in  importance  to  the  subtleties  of 
metaphysics.  Perhaps  none  is,  but  if  that  be  so  surely 
the  metaphysician  might  stick  to  his  metaphysics,  and 
leave  revolutions  to  be  made  or  prevented  by  those 
who  think  revolutions  a  serious  business.  It  is  not 
the  first  in  which  he  has  been  engaged.  The  Con- 
stitution lies  in  ruins  about  him  :   he  assenting  to  the 


ii8       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

ruin  and  going  himself  to  the  House  of  Lords  to  make 
sure  that  the  ruin  should  be  complete,  and  the 
Parliament  Bill,  so  called  because  it  destroys  the 
Parliament,  be  enacted  into  law.  That  also,  we  are 
to  suppose,  is  a  child  of  the  philosophical  detachment 
of  mind  which  is  able  to  regard  merely  mundane  things 
as  secondary,  and  only  les  choses  de  Vesprit  as  vital  to 
national  life.  Smooth  phrases  and  play  of  mind  and 
skill  in  dialectic  are  not,  however,  the  gifts  by  which 
great  English  Ministers  have  become  great. 


CHAPTER   XI 
FOUR  SPEAKERS  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  COMMONS 

I 

MR.    HENRY   BRAND,    MR.    ARTHUR    PEEL,    MR.    GULLY 

T  HAVE  known  four  Speakers,  beginning  with  Mr 
Henry  Brand,  who  held  this  great  office  from 
1872  to  1884,  who  was  afterwards  Sir  Henry  Brand, 
G.C.B.,  then  Viscount  Hampden.  He  belonged  to  a 
family  of  whom  one  was  John  Hampden  ;  a  name 
which,  notwithstanding  its  connection  with  the  Dacre 
peerage,  I  suppose  even  Mr.  Lloyd  George  would 
recognize  as  illustrious.  In  the  days  when  Mr.  Brand 
was  Speaker  I  used  to  go  now  and  then  to  the  House 
of  Commons.  The  figure  of  this  amiable  gentleman 
was  a  prepossessing  one.  All  Speakers,  I  may  say,  in 
their  robes  and  wig  and  seated  in  the  great  chair,  like 
a  Chair  of  State,  have  an  air  of  that  dignity  which  is 
inseparable  from  this  office. 

Mr.  Brand  had  it.  He  was  not,  I  think,  by  nature, 
a  man  of  high  authority.  The  habit  of  command  or  of 
quick  decision  was  not  natural  to  him.  Such  as  was 
his  he  won  by  practice.  The  office  educated  him  into 
a  competence  for  its  duties.  There  was  never  any 
doubt  that  he  knew  the  rules  of  the  House  and  how 
and  when  to  apply  them.  And  finally  there  came  a 
moment,  a  memorable  moment  about  nine  o'clock  one 
February  morning  of  1880,  when  he  rose  to  the  height 

119 


I20       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

of  a  great  occasion  and  reasserted  once  for  all  not 
only  his  own  authority  as  Speaker,  but  the  prestige 
and  power  of  the  House  over  its  own  rebellious  mem- 
bers. 

The  veiled  form  of  rebellion  then  called  Obstruction 
had  been  brought  by  the  Irish  Nationalists  to  a  pitch 
of  perfection  never  before  known.  The  pioneer  in 
this  business  of  preventing  business  by  an  unscrupulous 
use  of  the  rules  framed  in  order  to  carry  on  business, 
was  Mr.  Biggar.  The  moral  twist  in  Mr.  Biggar's 
nature  had  its  outward  counterpart  in  a  curious 
physical  malformation  and  in  a  face  which  seemed  in- 
tended as  an  example  of  Darwin's  theory  of  the  Origin 
of  Species.  He  entered  the  House  unknown  but  not 
unobserved.  Mr.  Disraeli  observed  him,  put  his  glass 
into  his  eye,  surveyed  this  new  species  for  a  moment 
and  turned  to  a  colleague  by  his  side  with  the  ques- 
tion : 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Parnell  was  not  above  adopting  Mr.  Biggar's 
tactics.  He  was  like  Mr.  John  Russell  Young  when 
managing  editor  of  The  Tribune.  I  asked  Young  one 
day  where  he  got  an  idea  he  announced  and  desired 
me  to  carry  out. 

"  It  doesn't  matter  where  I  got  it.  I  would  take 
an  idea  from  Benjamin  if  he  had  one." 

Benjamin  was  the  office  boy.  Mr.  Parnell,  with 
Mr.  Biggar  and  other  eminent  Irish  Nationalists  and 
office  boys  to  help  him,  deliberately  set  himself  to 
paralyse  the  legislative  efficiency  of  the  House  and  to 
bring  the  House  into  contempt.  It  was  a  policy  in 
which  he  gloried.  A  friend — if  he  had  a  friend — once 
asked  : 

"  Mr.  Parnell,  how  did  you  acquire  your  extra- 
ordinary knowledge  of  the  rules  of  the  House  ?  " 


MR.  HENRY  BRAND  121 

"  By  breaking  them,"  answered  the  Irish  leader. 

He  broke  them  all,  one  after  the  other,  but  his  real 
strength  lay  not  in  breaking  them,  but  in  using  them. 
On  this  occasion  obstruction  had  gone  on  for  three 
days.  The  Speaker  intervened,  the  House  sustained 
the  Speaker,  but  the  ingenuity  and  pertinacity  of 
Mr.  Parnell  and  his  colleagues  were,  during  these 
three  days,  more  than  a  match  for  both  Speaker  and 
House.  It  was  said  afterward  that  Mr.  Brand  might 
have  acted  sooner  than  he  did.  Down  to  that  time 
he  had  been  thought  rather  easy-going.  Probably  he 
was  no  more  easy-going  than  other  Speakers  whose  lot 
had  fallen  on  easier  times.  Nor  does  it  matter.  When 
he  struck,  he  struck  home.  He  rose  in  his  chair  on 
that  February  morning  and  announced  to  a  hushed 
House  that  in  his  judgment  the  sense  of  the  House 
was  that  the  question  be  now  put.    And  he  put  it. 

I  did  not  see  this  great  act.  I  wish  I  had.  But  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning  is  not  an  hour  when  one  is 
likely  to  find  oneself  inside  the  Palace  of  Westminster, 
nor  was  there  any  reason  to  suppose  that  anything 
was  going  to  happen.  I  was  told  afterward  that  Mr. 
Brand  had  taken  few  members  into  his  confidence.  It 
was  a  secret  too  tremendous  to  be  trusted  to  many, 
even  of  the  party  leaders  ;  all  of  whom,  the  Irish 
excepted,  were  with  him.  He  had,  however,  con- 
sulted with  the  chief  officials  of  the  House.  Unlike 
most  officials,  they,  or  some  of  them,  were  capable  of 
taking  an  unofficial  view.  The  Irish,  of  course,  de- 
nounced it  as  tyranny,  a  violation  of  their  privileges,  a 
coup  (Tetat ;  and  I  know  not  what  else.  But  the 
Speaker's  view  was  a  very  simple  one.  He  said  later  to 
his  friends  : 

"  It  cannot  be  that  the  rules  of  the  House  were 
intended  to  make  a  small  minority  of  the  House  rulers 


122       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

over  the  majority.  The  will  of  the  majority  is  meant 
to  prevail.  That  is  the  object  of  the  rules.  That 
was  the  evident  sense  and  desire  of  the  House  as  a 
whole.  It  only  remained  to  find  some  means  of  giving 
effect  both  to  the  purpose  and  intent  of  the  rules  and 
to  the  evident  resolve  of  the  majority.  Only  the 
Speaker  could  do  that.  I  thought  I  ought  to  take 
that  responsibility  and  I  took  it ;  and  there  never 
was  any  question  that  I  rightly  interpreted  and  exe- 
cuted the  will  of  the  House.  I  wish  no  other  defence 
than  that." 

But  it  has  gone  further  than  that.  The  power  which 
the  Speaker  then  usurped — if  he  usurped  it — was  soon 
after  conferred  upon  him  by  the  Standing  Orders 
which  govern  the  procedure  of  the  House,  and  those 
orders  are  still  in  force. 

To  an  American  familiar  with  the  practice  of  the 
House  of  Representatives  in  Washington  all  this  may 
seem  no  great  matter.  But  the  Speaker  of  the  House 
of  Commons  is  never  a  "  Czar,"  nor  ever  a  "  Joe  " 
Cannon,  nor  ever  in  any  sense  a  party  man  or  the 
agent  of  a  party's  will.  He  does  not  appoint  com- 
mittees. There  is  no  Committee  on  Rules,  as  in  the 
House  of  Representatives,  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
trolling legislation  and  of  controlling  it  in  the  interest 
of  a  party.  It  would  not  have  been  possible  for  Mr. 
Brand  to  bring  obstruction  to  an  end  if  he  had  had 
only  one  party  behind  him.  It  was  only  because  he 
had  the  House  behind  him  that  he  could  do  it.  More- 
over, he  went  beyond  all  precedents  and  traditions  in 
order  to  do  it ;  and  in  this  country  precedents  and 
traditions  have — they  still  have,  but  nobody  knows 
for  how  long — the  force  of  law,  and  sometimes  more 
than  the  force  of  law. 

Of  the  three  other  Speakers  about  whom  I  wish  to 


MR.  ARTHUR  PEEL  123 

say  something  I  will  take  Mr.  Arthur  Peel,  now  Vis- 
count Peel,  first.  He  succeeded  Sir  Henry  Brand, 
and  there  is  a  curious  story  about  the  way  in  which 
he  came  to  succeed  him.  He  was  the  son  of  the  great 
Sir  Robert  Peel,  the  idol  and  ideal  of  Mr.  Gladstone's 
political  life.  He  had  been  twenty  years  in  the  House, 
yet  had  won  no  particular  distinction  in  debate  or 
otherwise.  He  seldom,  if  ever,  spoke.  But  Mr. 
Gladstone — for  the  choice  of  a  candidate  for  Speaker 
rests  in  the  first  instance  with  the  Prime  Minister  of 
the  day — said  to  his  colleagues  that  he  should  like  to 
make  the  proposal  to  Mr.  Peel  if  only  as  a  compliment 
to  his  father.  He  was  told  that  Mr.  Peel  would  not 
accept. 

"  Never  mind.  I  wish  he  should  have  the  chance 
to  accept." 

So  the  proposal  was  made  and,  to  the  surprise  of 
Mr.  Peel's  friends,  was  accepted.  The  House  is  not 
obliged  to  choose  the  candidate  presented  to  it  by 
the  Prime  Minister,  but  Mr.  Gladstone's  authority 
was  still  very  great  in  1884,  and  his  nominee  was 
elected  unanimously.  Mr.  Peel  had  then  to  address 
the  House.  He  spoke  with  an  eloquence  nobody  ex- 
pected ;  with  dignity,  and  in  that  House  of  Commons 
tone  which  is  supposed  to  be  attainable  only  by  long 
practice.  The  House  was  delighted,  and  from  the 
day  he  took  the  chair,  in  1884,  down  to  1895,  when  he 
retired,  he  ruled  wisely  and  well. 

I  often  saw  Mr.  Peel.  All  Speakers,  for  the  reason 
I  gave  above,  are  impressive.  It  is  not  too  much  to 
say  of  this  one  that  his  air  was  majestic.  "  Like  a 
King  upon  his  throne,"  I  once  heard  an  experienced 
observer  say,  but  in  truth  the  number  of  kings  who 
upon  good  testimony  are  kingly  in  their  demeanour  is 
not  unlimited,  and  the  number  to  whom  you  would 


124       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

apply  the  word  majestic  is  more  limited  still.  The 
most  striking  scene  I  can  remember  was  that  in  which 
a  tumult  arose  in  Committee  :  insults  were  flung 
across  the  floor  of  the  House,  the  two  sides  roared  at 
each  other,  blows  were  exchanged,  the  Chairman  was 
powerless,  and  the  Speaker  was  sent  for.  As  he  was 
seen  emerging  from  the  space  behind  the  Chair  the 
House  grew  still ;  the  passions  which  had  rent  the  air 
subsided  ;  order  reigned  before  a  word  had  fallen 
from  those  grave  lips.  The  mere  presence  of  the 
Speaker  sufficed.  It  was  a  triumph  of  personality  far 
more  than  of  ofl&cial  position. 

A  tall,  erect,  strong-featured  and  strong-natured 
man.  The  first  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  a  cotton  spinner, 
from  whom  came  the  great  fortune  which  the  great 
Sir  Robert  used  greatly,  now,  by  descent  to  a  last 
eldest  son,  pretty  much  squandered.  The  Speaker  was 
the  youngest  son  of  the  Prime  Minister.  The  doctrine 
of  heredity  is  no  longer  a  favourite  doctrine  with  the 
men  who  have  possession  of  the  platform.  It  seems 
useless,  therefore,  to  ask  whether  the  present  Lord 
Peel  owes  any  debt  to  either  of  his  ancestors,  or  to 
which.    He  is  quite  capable  of  standing  alone. 

He  is  a  great  orator.  It  was  not  merely  the  one 
speech  on  his  election  to  the  Speakership  which  proved 
it.  A  frequent  orator  he  is  not,  but  whenever  he  has 
spoken  it  has  been  in  the  grand  manner.  He  belongs 
to  the  school  of  which  Mr.  Gladstone  was  the  most 
illustrious  example ;  not  the  greatest  school,  but 
one  of  the  greatest.  When  Mr.  DisraeH  described  Mr. 
Gladstone  as  intoxicated  with  the  exuberance  of  his 
own  verbosity  there  was  too  much  truth  in  that 
unfriendly  sentence.  But  Lord  Peel,  who  has  the 
sonorous  eloquence  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  has  never  had 
the   fluent   facility   of   speech   and   the   unrestrained 


MR.  GULLY  125 

copiousness  of  diction  which  so  often  brought  that 
orator  to  disaster.  If  I  were  asked  to  choose  among 
all  the  speeches  I  have  heard  one  which  had  every 
great  quality  of  oratory  in  the  least  compass,  I  should 
choose  Lord  Peel's  speech  at  the  dinner  of  farewell 
to  M.  Waddington,  on  his  retirement  from  the 
French  Embassy  to  London  which  he  had  long  honour- 
ably filled.  He  said  everything  that  needed  to  be  said, 
said  it  with  finish,  with  distinction,  with  rhetorical 
power,  with  a  vibratory  emotion  which  held  a  brilliant 
company  breathless,  and  his  speech  was  just  six  minutes 
long. 

The  present  Speaker's  predecessor  was  one  of  the 
politest  of  men,  yet  firm  enough  to  rule  the  House. 
He  was  Mr.  Gully,  the  third  of  the  Speakers  I  am 
writing  about  ;  a  barrister  and  Liberal  politician  ; 
able  in  both  capacities  but  not  supremely  able  in 
either.  It  was  a  surprise  to  the  House  when  Mr. 
Gladstone  chose  him  as  a  candidate  for  the  Speaker- 
ship. The  surprise  was  not  quite  the  same  as  in  Mr. 
Peel's  case  ;  or  not  for  the  same  reason.  Perhaps  the 
occult  motives  of  Mr.  Gladstone  were  never  made 
public.  Mr.  Gladstone  had  many  occult  motives ; 
many  which  he  did  not  care  to  expose  to  the  light  of 
day.  In  this  particular  case  they  do  not  matter  much. 
Mr.  Gully's  genial  personality  may  have  been  one  of 
them. 

My  acquaintance  with  him  began  at  that  highly 
miscellaneous  Anglo-German  watering-place,  Homburg 
von  der  Hohe.  It  was  a  place  where  a  man  was  more 
likely  to  be  seen  in  his  shirt  sleeves — moral  shirt 
sleeves — than  anywhere  else.  Mr.  Gully  had  few  re- 
serves. His  appearance  and  manner  were  alike  pre- 
possessing. He  had  the  diplomatic  art  of  talking 
freely  and  revealing  nothing.     He  was  popular  and 


126       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

he  had  a  popular  wife.  The  Speaker's  Chair  he  put 
far  behind  him  ;  there  was  no  room  for  it  in  the  little 
German  town  under  the  lee  of  Frankfort.  The  Prince 
of  Wales — the  late  King — who  liked  him,  had  set 
everybody  an  example  in  such  matters,  and  Mr. 
Gully  saw  no  reason  why  he  should  not  follow  it  ; 
nor  was  there  one. 

The  circumstances  in  which  he  had  come  to  the 
Speakership  might  tend  to  promote  modesty.  There 
had  been  a  contest,  which  was  unusual.  Mr.  Gully 
had  been  elected  by  a  narrow  majority — and  a  party 
majority  at  that  ;  which  was  more  unusual  still. 
The  Conservatives  had  publicly  announced  that  if, 
after  the  election  known  to  be  imminent,  they  came 
back  with  a  majority  they  would  turn  Mr.  Gully 
out  ;  or  rather,  since  the  Speaker's  tenure  of  office 
expires  with  the  Parliament  in  which  he  has  been 
elected,  they  would  not  re-elect  him.  But  he  proved 
to  be  an  efficient  Speaker,  with  a  wide  knowledge  of 
Parliamentary  law  and  a  mastery  of  the  rules  and 
traditions  of  the  House  of  Commons ;  with  quick- 
ness, which  is  indispensable,  and  tact,  which  is  de- 
sirable, and  force.  When  the  dissolution  came  they 
nevertheless  attacked  him  in  his  constituency  and  tried 
to  defeat  him  and  to  prevent  his  re-election  to  the 
House,  which  would,  of  course,  have  prevented  his 
re-election  as  Speaker.  That  effort  failed,  and 
when  the  Conservatives  came  back  with  a  majority, 
their  hostility  to  Mr.  Gully  died  away,  and  Mr.  Bal- 
four, then  as  now  leader  of  the  Conservatives,  proposed 
Mr.  Gully  as  Speaker  and  the  House  elected  him 
unanimously.  He  reigned  ten  years,  1895  to  1905,  and 
was  a  good  officer,  and  left  behind  him  a  good  name 
when,  in  1905,  he  took  a  better  and  became  Viscount 
Selby.     The  most  inveterate  republican  may  admit 


MR.  JAMES  LOWTHER  127 

that  it  is  better  when  he  is  told  that  Mr.  Gully  chose 
his  wife's  name  as  that  by  which  he  was  to  be  ennobled. 
A  rare,  if  not  unique,  instance. 


II 

MR.    JAMES    LOWTHER 

Mr.  Lowther,  the  present  Speaker,  in  any  account 
you  may  take  of  living  celebrities  stands  very  near 
the  front.  Not  only  because  he  is  Speaker,  but 
because  he  is  Mr.  Lowther.  To  give  him  his  full  title, 
he  is  the  Right  Hon.  James  William  Lowther,  p.c. 
— magic  initials  which  stand  for  Privy  Councillor — 
and  Member  of  Parliament  for  the  Penrith  division 
of  Cumberland  since  1886.  A  Conservative  in  his 
private  capacity ;  of  no  politics  whatever  in  his 
capacity  of  Speaker  ;  no,  nor  was  he  in  his  capacity  of 
Chairman  of  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means  and 
Deputy  Speaker ;  a  post  second  in  importance  only 
to  the  Speakership  itself.  This  he  held  from  1895 
to  1905,  when  he  was  chosen  Speaker.  He  had,  there- 
fore, ten  years'  training  in  the  business  of  presiding 
over  the  House  of  Commons.  And  it  was  because 
he  came  brilliantly  well  out  of  this  long  trial  that  he 
was  made  Speaker.  Had  he  been  a  poor  or  even  a 
moderately  good  Chairman  of  Ways  and  Means  he 
would  never  have  been  put  into  this  higher  place. 

You  might,  nevertheless,  describe  him  as  a  country 
gentleman  ;  born  for  sport  and  the  care  of  an  estate  ; 
one  of  the  "  idle  rich  "  whom  Ministers  of  the  Crown 
to-day  denounce  as  so  many  cumbercrs  of  the  ground  ; 
an  "  idle  "  man,  in  this  case,  with  a  habit  of  working 
ten,  twelve,  fourteen  hours  a  day.    Look  at  that  well- 


128       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

set-up,  athletic  figure,  with  the  head  on  it  of  a  man  of 
the  world  and  a  student  ;  and  the  eyes  of  a  man  who 
can  hold  a  gun  straight  ;  brown-haired,  blue-eyed, 
brown-skinned  and  bearded  ;  a  man  every  inch  of  him. 

Beyond  doubt  he  comes  easily  within  the  range  of 
Mr.  Lloyd  George's  Limehouse  invective.  He  does 
not  work  with  his  hands  ;  he  is  not  in  receipt  of  an 
old  age  pension  ;  he  owns  a  property  in  Cumberland  ; 
his  associates  are  also  of  the  idle  rich.  Worse  than  that, 
he  is  the  eldest  son  of  the  Hon.  William  Lowther,  who 
is  uncle  to  the  present  Earl  of  Lonsdale,  the  actual 
head  of  the  Lowther  family  ;  to  whom  the  Speaker  is 
first  cousin.  A  family  of  many  and  far-reaching  dis- 
tinctions ;  none  perhaps  superior  to  that  of  the 
Speaker,  since  the  Speaker  is  First  Commoner  of 
England,  a  title  of  true  pride.  Here  also  is  heredity, 
in  which  Lord  Rosebery,  speaking  lately  at  Manchester, 
declared  himself  a  believer  :  "  though  I  do  not  care 
about  hereditary  legislators  "  ;  meaning,  no  doubt, 
that  he  did  not  care  about  an  hereditary  legislature, 
having  succeeded  after  many  years  in  inducing  the 
House  of  Lords  to  abolish,  so  far  as  a  vote  of  that 
body  could  abolish,  the  hereditary  principle  as  a 
principle  of  legislative  right. 

The  Speaker's  father  was  long  a  diplomatist,  then 
an  M.P.  ;  then  in  1892  retired  to  private  life.  He 
is  at  this  momemt  of  writing  eighty-nine  years  old  ; 
and  still  young.  A  mind  of  genuine  force  ;  convic- 
tions which  he  never  tampered  with  ;  a  firmness  of 
nature  as  of  a  rock,  and,  over  all,  that  saving  grace  of 
humour  which  stands  between  its  happy  possessor 
and  tragic  views  of  life.  Now,  as  half  a  century  ago, 
it  lights  up  his  face  ;  his  eyes  glow  with  it,  and  the 
softening,  cheering,  inspiriting  influence  of  it  descends 
gently  upon  those  about  him,  and  the  radiance  of  it 


MR.  JAMES   LOWTHER  129 

fills  the  room.    It  is  so  with  the  son.    Of  all  qualities 
it  is  the  most  human  and  the  most  rare. 

No  American  visitor  can  have  gone  westward 
through  Kensington  without  seeing  Lowther  Lodge  ; 
one  of  the  few  private  residences  in  London  which 
stands  in  its  own  and  ample  grounds ;  commonly 
called  a  Queen  Anne  house  ;  of  red  brick,  with  gables 
and  steepled  chimneys  ;  a  picturesque  piece  of  archi- 
tecture which  would  look  at  home  in  a  country  land- 
scape, and  in  London  seems  a  little  exotic.  A  delightful 
house  inside  ;  full  of  treasures ;  renowned  for  its 
hospitality.  Until  lately  there  presided  over  both 
Lowther  Lodge  and  Campsea  Ash,  the  Lowthers' 
place  in  Suffolk,  a  mistress  who  had  rare  qualities  of 
mind  and  character  ;  a  hostess  of  both  tact  and 
authority  ;  an  accomplished,  original,  most  amiable 
and  kindly  woman,  who  is  dead. 

Of  such  descent  and  of  such  a  parentage  the 
Speaker  of  to-day  comes  rightfully  by  the  gifts  which 
have  won  him  the  respect,  the  liking,  the  affection  of 
the  House.  He  is  unlike  all  past  and  probably  unlike 
all  future  Speakers.  In  knowledge  none  ever  excelled 
him  ;  in  his  way  of  applying  his  knowledge  to  the 
matter  in  hand  he  is  absolutely  unique.  When  Gam- 
betta  was  President  of  the  French  Chamber  of  Deputies 
you  saw  the  use  a  man  of  genius  could  make  of  his 
genius  in  a  place  which  did  not  seem  to  call  for  genius. 
I  draw  no  comparison  between  Gambetta  and  Mr. 
Lowther,  and  I  don't  know  that  genius  is  the  word 
which  would  be  thought  descriptive  of  Mr.  Lowther. 
All  I  mean  is  that  each  of  the  two  men  brought  to 
bear  upon  duties  largely  of  a  routine  kind  qualities 
far  removed  from  the  region  of  routine. 

That  sense  of  humour  which,  as  I  said,  Mr.  Lowther 
possesses  is  perhaps  of  not  less  use  to  him  as  Speaker 


I30       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

than  those  other  traits  which  might  seem  more 
germane  to  the  office.  There  are  various  ways  of 
keeping  670  gentlemen — ^well,  a  majority  are  gentle- 
men— in  order  besides  the  strict  enforcement  of  the 
Standing  Orders.  The  power  of  taking  detached 
views — a  power  inseparable  from  humour — is  one.  Mr. 
Lowther  has  not  said  a  harsh  thing  since  he  has  been 
Speaker,  but  he  has  made  many  an  honourable  member, 
including  the  Prime  Minister  and  other  Ministers,  look 
a  little  foolish.  He  does  it  by  setting  the  honourable 
member's  conduct  or  statement  in  a  new  light.  It  is 
done  in  a  sentence  ;  in  the  fewest  possible  words ; 
never  arguing,  never  doubting  ;  inflexible  but  smiling  ; 
and  members  have  grown  shy  about  calling  down  on 
themselves  these  flashing  thunderbolts.  The  terse 
sentence  with  which  he  sends  an  offender  back  to 
his  seat  is  like  a  sentence  to  the  Clock  Tower,  except 
that  the  offender  whom  the  Speaker  has  once  dealt 
with  seldom  offends  again.  He  is  master  of  the  un- 
expected ;  and  the  most  convinced  extremist  or 
enthusiast,  as  well  as  the  most  accomplished  cynic, 
suddenly  becomes  aware  that  there  is  another  way  of 
seeing  things  than  his.  His  manner  is  parental  but 
peremptory  ;  and  appeal  from  his  decision  there  is 
none ;  or  none  at  the  moment,  and  therefore  prac- 
tically none  at  all. 

But  it  is  easier  to  form  a  notion  of  Mr.  Lowther 
from  a  little  acquaintance  in  private  life  than  from 
the  Speaker's  Chair  ;  easier  to  form  and  much  more 
difficult  to  express.  But  I  will  venture  to  take  an 
instance.  I  was  visiting  at  Campsea  Ash  three  years 
ago  when  Mr.  Lowther  came  down,  after  a  late  ad- 
journment of  the  House.  There  was  a  crisis.  There 
have  been  many  crises  of  late  years,  and  I  will  not  say 
which.     The   Speaker   had  had   to   interpose.     The 


MR.  JAMES    LOWTHER  131 

whole  situation  was  delicate  and  difficult.  At  dinner, 
for  which  he  arrived  with  the  coffee,  nothing  was 
said.  Later  in  the  evening  there  was  a  reference  to 
the  incident  of  the  day,  and  one  of  us  asked  how  it 
had  ended.  That  question  was  easily  answered,  and 
I  think  nobody  w^ould  have  put  another.  But  having 
answered  it,  the  Speaker  went  on.  He  gave  us  such 
an  account  of  what  had  happened  as  nobody  else 
could  have  given,  because  nobody  else  had  seen  it 
from  the  Chair.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  lay  the  blame 
where  it  belonged.  He  told  us  what  his  rulings  had 
been,  and  why.  He  summed  up  the  case  as  a  judge 
on  the  bench  might  sum  it  up ;  a  strong  judge, 
strong  enough  to  impose  his  view  or  his  will  on  the 
jury  while  leaving  them,  to  all  appearance,  free  and 
independent.  The  Speaker  has,  I  am  always  saying, 
as  Speaker,  no  politics.  In  private  and  before  his 
constituents  of  Cumberland  Mr.  Lowther  is  still  a 
Conservative.  I  will  not  say  whether  he  was  Con- 
servative or  Liberal  during  this  exposition  ;  but  he 
was,  for  the  purposes  of  his  statement,  one  or  the 
other.  He  had  formed  a  strong  opinion  and  expressed 
it  strongly.  No  bitterness,  of  course.  Anything  like 
bitterness  or  rancour  is  alien  to  his  nature,  as  it  is  to 
the  nature  of  most  strong  men.  But  when  he  had 
ended  his  account  he  had  carried  us  all  with  him.  We 
were  like  the  jury  who  said  it  was  no  credit  to  a  certain 
great  barrister  to  win  so  many  causes,  because  he  was 
always  on  the  right  side. 

During  so  much  of  the  session  as  the  weather  per- 
mits Mrs.  Lowther  receives  her  friends  on  the  Terrace 
of  the  Houses  of  Parliament  and  gives  them  tea.  There 
is  usually  a  large  company  of  guests  ;  women  in  the 
majority,  not  unnaturally.  If  the  state  of  business  in 
the  House  permits,  the  Speaker  appears  for  half  an 


132       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

hour  or  less.  He  is  in  full  dress,  minus  wig  and  robes. 
With  them  he  has  laid  aside  his  authority  o£  manner. 
He  is  simple  ;  most  Englishmen  are  ;  and  the  sim- 
plicity is  apt  to  increase  as  the  rank  or  position  in- 
creases. In  the  House  he  is  vigilant,  determined, 
unrelaxing ;  it  does  not  answer  to  be  otherwise. 
Here  on  the  Terrace  all  that  is  gone.  He  is  simply- 
entertaining  his  wife's  guests.  If  you  care  to  see 
whether  he  succeeds  in  this  praiseworthy  effort  you 
have  only  to  look  into  the  faces  of  the  women  to 
whom  he  is  talking.  Mrs.  Lowther  as  hostess  has 
the  kindliness  which  underlies  all  social  successes ; 
the  graciousness  which  a  hostess  of  high  place  must 
have  ;  the  social  knowledge  and  diplomacy  incidental 
to,  and  also  indispensable  in,  the  discharge  of  her 
duties.  Both  have  the  art  of  putting  people  at  their 
ease. 

The  state  and  splendour  of  the  Speakership  are 
kept  up,  no  matter  who  is  Speaker.  The  Speaker's 
house  is  part  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  You 
drive  through  Palace  Yard  and  through  an  arch- 
way facing  the  entrance,  and  the  Speaker's  House  is 
at  the  opposite  end  of  the  court.  It  was  designed  as  a 
house  of  hospitality.  When  you  have  climbed  the 
staircase  to  the  first  floor  you  may  pass  from  room  to 
room,  each  opening  into  the  other  and  all  looking 
upon  the  river,  till  you  come  to  the  great  dining-room 
hung  with  official  portraits,  with  seats  for  some  sixty 
guests  at  table.  Crowded  as  these  rooms  often  are 
with  much  that  is  most  brilliant  in  the  social  life  of 
London,  they  are  themselves  brilliant.  When  the 
Speaker  gives  his  Parliamentary  dinners  everybody 
comes  in  uniform  or  in  court  dress.  At  Mrs.  Lowther's 
evening  parties  there  is  often  the  same  blaze  of  colour, 
not   always   to   the   advantage   of  the   more   delicate 


MR.  JAMES   LOWTHER  133 

beauty  o£  the  gowns  worn  hy  the  women.  The 
Speaker's  salary  is  £sooo  a  year,  plus  the  house  and 
large  allowances  for  keeping  it  up.  It  is  still  the  pre- 
dominant opinion  in  England  that  the  dignity  of  great 
offices  of  State  should  be  adequately  maintained. 

And  it  is  still  the  custom,  the  rule,  even  if  a  rule 
with  exceptions,  to  appoint  to  these  great  offices 
men  adequate  to  fill  them.  And  when  a  great  office 
like  the  Speakership  is  greatly  held,  as  it  is  by  Mr. 
Lowther,  a  new  sense  of  its  importance  and  its  op- 
portunities reinforces  the  old  traditions. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE    FIFTH    EARL    SPENCER 

I 

T70R  nearly  five  years  Lord  Spencer  has  been 
fighting  a  hopeless  battle.  Yesterday  he  died, 
and  a  great  figure  passes  into  history.  I  imagine  there 
is  no  man  who  has  known  him  who  has  not  to-day  a 
sense  of  personal  loss.  There  can  be  no  Englishman 
who  does  not  feel  that  a  great  Englishman  is  gone. 
I  must  have  written  about  him  in  times  past,  but  I 
must  write  of  him  to-day  out  of  many  personal  recol- 
lections of  earlier  days. 

I  speak  of  him  as  a  great  Englishman.  Americans 
may  think  it  a  strong  phrase,  for,  except  during  the 
three  years  of  his  second  Irish  Viceroyalty,  his  fame 
was  not  of  a  kind  to  fill  the  world.  During  that  second 
Viceroyalty,  moreover,  American  opinions  must  have 
been  touched  with  some  of  the  hatreds  of  the  Irish 
Nationalists  of  those  sombre  days.  He  became  Viceroy 
in  1882,  and  on  his  entrance  upon  his  great  office. 
May  6, 1882,  Lord  Frederick  Cavendish  and  Mr.  Burke 
were  murdered  in  Phoenix  Park,  not  far  from  the 
Viceregal  Lodge  and  within  view  of  its  windows. 

I  have  heard  Lord  Spencer  tell  the  story.  His  entry 
into  Dublin  had  passed  off  with  no  unhappy  incident. 
He  and  his  half-brother,  Mr.  Robert  Spencer,  since 
Viscount  Althorp  and  now  successor  to  the  earldom, 
had  ridden  out  from  the  Castle  to  the  Lodge.  From 
the  windows  or  from  the  grounds,  I  forget  which, 
they  saw  what  they  took  to  be   a  scuffle.     Presently 

134 


THE   FIFTH   EARL   SPENCER         135 

word  was  brought  to  the  Viceroy  that  the  Chief 
Secretary  and  the  Permanent  Under  Secretary  had 
been  assassinated.  They  meant  to  kill  Mr.  Burke. 
They  did  not  know  who  Lord  Frederick  Cavendish 
was,  but  since  he  tried  to  help  Mr.  Burke  they  killed 
him  also. 

It  was  an  anxious  moment,  for  it  might  well  enough 
be  that  the  murderers  would  aim  higher  still.  Lord 
Spencer  and  Mr.  Robert  looked  about  them.  There 
was  not  a  soldier  or  policeman  within  call.  There  were 
no  arms.  Neither  Lord  Spencer  nor  his  brother  had 
so  much  as  a  revolver.  Lord  Spencer  sat  watching  to 
see  what  might  happen,  and  Mr.  Robert  explored  the 
Lodge,  presently  returning  with  a  steel  poker  from 
the  library  fireplace.  There  was  nothing  else.  But 
the  Lodge  was  not  attacked.  Brady  and  his  fellow- 
assassins  were  content  with  what  they  had  done,  and 
departed.  It  was  rather  late  in  the  afternoon.  The 
news  soon  reached  the  barracks  in  Dublin,  and  a  force 
of  cavalry  was  hurried  off  to  the  Lodge.  But,  for  the 
moment,  the  thirst  for  blood  had  been  slaked. 

"  Statesman  and  sportsman,"  says  one  English  paper 
in  its  headlines,  characteristically.  In  both  capacities 
he  had  to  hunt  down  the  murderers.  I  am  afraid 
there  is  no  doubt  that,  though  Mr.  Parnell  washed  his 
hands  of  this  stain,  the  Parnellites  generally  through- 
out Ireland  were  willing  enough  there  should  be  a 
smear  of  blood  on  their  flag.  There  had  been  many 
murders  before  ;  agrarian,  political,  and  others.  The 
adjective  does  not  matter.  They  were  murders. 
But  the  deed  done  in  Phoenix  Park  had  made  it  once 
more  necessary  to  pass  and  enforce  a  Crimes  Act.  No 
less  a  man  than  Sir  William  Harcourt,  then  Home 
Secretary,  introduced  the  Bill  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons.    Mr.  Parnell's  abhorrence  of  the  Phoenix  Park 


136       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

murders,  which  hindered  his  poHcy,  did  not  prevent 
him  from  opposing  a  Bill  to  prevent  other  murders  ; 
nor  from  withdrawing,  with  all  his  followers,  as  a 
protest  against  its  passage.  But  passed  it  was  on 
July  12,  and  Lord  Spencer  the  next  day  proclaimed 
seventeen  counties.  Other  murders  followed — the 
Joyce  family  at  Maamtrasna,  husband,  wife,  son  and 
daughter,  all  shot  dead  ;  Bourke  and  Wallace,  shot 
dead  in  Galway  ;  Blake,  Lord  Clanricarde's  agent,  and 
Kan,  his  steward,  shot  dead  near  Loughrea  ;  detectives 
in  Dublin  assaulted  and  Cox  killed  ;  Field,  a  juryman 
in  the  Joyce  trial,  stabbed.  The  intent  to  defeat  the 
administration  of  justice  was  evident,  and  Lord 
Spencer  put  Dublin  under  martial  law.  Then  Carey, 
who  looked  on  while  Brady  and  the  other  three  hacked 
Lord  Frederick  Cavendish  to  pieces,  turned  Queen's 
evidence  ;  Brady  and  Kelly  and  Coffey  (who  pleaded 
guilty)  and  Curley  and  Fagan  were  tried,  convicted, 
and  duly  hanged.  More  than  a  year  had  passed  since 
the  murders.  Six  or  seven  months  later  Carey,  the 
informer,  was  shot  dead  by  O'Donnell  on  board  the 
Melrose  Castle  in  South  African  waters. 

Such  were  some  of  the  circumstances  amid  which 
Lord  Spencer  had  to  govern  Ireland.  But  govern  he 
did,  firmly,  wisely,  effectively.  He  had  Sir  George 
Trevelyan  as  Chief  Secretary,  a  very  competent  man, 
very  devoted,  but  not,  like  Lord  Spencer,  of  the 
governing  type.  Trevelyan  was  of  the  emotional 
type.  Spencer's  nerves  were  of  steel.  He  used 
the  powers  which  the  Prevention  of  Crimes  Act  put 
in  his  hands  with  such  effect  that  the  number  of 
of  outrages  was  reduced  by  three-fourths.  He  was 
therefore  reviled  as  no  Viceroy  had  ever  been  reviled, 
nor  has  ever  since  been  reviled,  in  Parliament  and  out. 
He  took  it  all  as  part  of  the  day's  work.     He  never 


THE    FIFTH    EARL    SPENCER         137 

answered.  He  turned  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the 
left.  He  did  what  he  thought  his  duty  as  well  as  he 
knew  how  to  do  it.  Before  or  since  Ireland  has  had 
no  such  Viceroy  nor  ever  been  more  steadily  ruled. 
Let  us  take  the  testimony  of  Lord  Morley,  con- 
vinced Home  Ruler  and  ex-Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland, 
who  is  believed  to  have  turned  the  mind  of  Mr. 
Gladstone  to  Home  Rule.  Lord  Morley  says  in  his 
Life  of  Gladstone,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  71  : — 

"  The  new  Viceroy  attacked  the  formidable  task 
before  him  with  resolution,  minute  assiduity,  and  an 
inexhaustible  store  of  that  steady-eyed  patience  which 
is  the  sovereign  requisite  of  any  man  who,  whether 
with  coercion  or  without,  takes  in  hand  the  govern- 
ment of  Ireland." 

And  there  is  just  before  this  passage  a  picture  of 
the  condition  of  Ireland,  "  when  the  Invincibles  still 
roved  with  knives  about  the  streets  of  Dublin,"  with 
demoralization,  moral  cowardice,  affecting  even  the 
courts  in  their  duty,  and  "  the  very  foundations  of  the 
social  fabric  rocking." 

The  worst  and  most  desperate  years  in  the  modern 
history  of  Ireland.  Not  many  men,  perhaps,  have 
lived  for  three  years  in  hourly  peril  of  assassination  in 
a  spirit  as  tranquil  as  Lord  Spencer's.  It  never  dis- 
turbed his  work  nor  embittered  his  feeling  toward  the 
Irish.  Of  bitterness  he  was  incapable  ;  and  of  fear. 
Now  that  these  dangers  are  past  men  may  make  light 
of  them  ;  especially  those  whose  interest  it  is  to 
relieve  themselves  of  suspicion.  But  I  will  give  you  a 
single  sentence  of  Lady  Spencer,  who  remained  by 
her  husband's  side  and  desired  to  share,  and  did  share, 
the  perils  that  environed  him.    Said  Lady  Spencer  : 

"  I    don't   think   I    ever   quite   realized   what   the 


138       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

condition  of  things  was  till  in  driving  out  I  found  that 
the  aide-de-camp  on  the  seat  opposite  me  had  his 
hand  always  on  his  revolver." 

This,  although  there  was  always  a  mounted  escort, 
beside  police  and  detectives  in  front  and  in  rear  of  the 
carriage.  Such  was  the  life  they  lived  ;  such  were  the 
methods  employed.  The  Irish,  with  their  natural 
quick  wit  and  gallantry,  had  named  the  Viceroy's 
wife  Spencer's  Faery  Queen.  But  politics — it  was 
always  called  politics — made  no  allowance  for  poetry. 

All  this  did  not  prevent  Lord  Spencer  from  follow- 
ing Mr.  Gladstone  into  the  Home  Rule  camp  in  1886. 
It  has  been  said  that  if  Lord  Spencer  had  held  out 
Mr.  Gladstone  would  have  been  forced  to  abandon 
or  greatly  modify  his  Home  Rule  Bill.  However  that 
may  be.  Lord  Spencer's  decision  was  a  great  surprise 
to  the  Unionists  and  a  great  blow,  and  they  resented 
it  with  no  common  bitterness.  They  denounced  him 
as  a  traitor.  They  resented  it  socially  as  well  as 
politically.  I  met  Lord  Spencer  one  night  at  a  house 
which,  though  of  great  importance  and  splendour, 
was  a  house  where  a  year  or  two  before  he  and  Lady 
Spencer  might  or  might  not  have  been  seen.  A  friend 
said  to  me  : 

"  Do  you  see  the  Spencers  ?  " 

"  Yes — why  not  ?  " 

"  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  it  is  the  first  time 
they  have  crossed  this  threshold." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  if  you  ask  Lord 
Spencer  he  will  tell  you  you  are  wrong." 

He  did  not  ask,  nor  did  I,  but  after  a  while  I  said  to 
Lord  Spencer  : 

"  Well,  it  seems  you  do  go  out  sometimes." 

Half  laughingly,  but  rather  grimly,  he  answered  : 

"  I  go  when  I  am  asked." 


THE   FIFTH    EARL    SPENCER         139 

And  after  a  pause  : 

"  You  know  very  well  how  angry  the  Unionists 
are  ;  but  would  you  suppose  that  we  don't  receive 
one  invitation  where  we  used  to  get  twenty  ?  " 

"  That's  a  rhetorical  way  of  putting  it." 

"  It  is  literally  true." 

I  did  not  say  so  to  Lord  Spencer  but  I  thought  it 
almost  as  discreditable  to  the  Unionists  as  I  thought 
the  Irish  attacks  on  Lord  Spencer  discreditable  to 
the  Irish.  I  record  one  as  I  record  the  other,  and  in 
that  spirit  of  impartiality  at  which  I  always  aim, 
and  to  which  I  do  not  always  attain.  But  this  is  a 
fine  example. 

Between  a  cancelled  dinner-card  and  a  shot  from 
behind  a  hedge  there  is  a  certain  difference  ;  but  there 
need  not  be  much  difference  between  the  spirit  which 
inspires  the  one  and  the  other.  If  there  were  in  all 
England  two  people  who  stood  as  near  the  summit 
of  things  as  subjects  can  stand,  they  were  Lord  and 
Lady  Spencer.  Lady  Spencer  was  a  Seymour,  great- 
granddaughter  to  the  seventh  Marquess  of  Hertford. 
The  first  Earl  Spencer  was  grandson  to  the  third  Earl 
of  Sunderland,  who  married  the  daughter  of  the  first 
Duke  of  Marlborough,  and  comes  down  through  a 
line  of  ancestors  distinguished  in  public  and  in  private 
life.  He  was  grandson  to  that  Lord  Althorp  who, 
as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  led  the  House  of 
Commons  1830-4,  and  the  two  were  singularly 
alike  in  those  personal  qualities  which  in  this  country 
confer  upon  the  possessor  of  them  an  authority 
which  mere  talents  never  confer.  The  late  Duke  of 
Devonshire  was  another  example,  and  perhaps  the 
most  illustrious  of  all.  Side  by  side  with  him  in 
point  of  character,  absolute  integrity,  unselfish  devo- 
tion to  the  State,  and  courage  whether  personal  or 


I40       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

political  of  the  highest  order,  stands  this  fifth  Earl 
Spencer.  Yet  this  was  the  man  whom  other  men, 
of  position  not  less  than  his  and  of  character  hereto- 
fore spotless,  set  themselves  to  persecute. 

I  will  take  the  late  Duke  of  Westminster,  the  first 
Duke,  as  an  illustration  of  the  temper  which  at  that 
time  pervaded  the  Unionist  ranks.  He  had  been 
Marquis  of  Westminster  till  1874,  when  Mr.  Gladstone 
made  him  a  Duke.  He  was  a  Liberal,  a  Gladstonian 
Liberal.  In  testimony  of  his  respect  and  friendly 
admiration  for  his  creator  he  commissioned  Sir  John 
Millais  to  paint  Mr.  Gladstone's  portrait — the  finest 
of  the  four  which  came  from  Millais's  brush.  In 
1886  or  1887  the  Duke  caused  it  to  be  known  that  he 
no  longer  wished  to  keep  the  portrait,  and  he  sold  it, 
at  a  large  profit,  to  Sir  Charles  Tennant,  in  whose 
house  in  Grosvenor  Square  it  hung  till  Sir  Charles 
died,  and  is  now,  I  think,  to  be  seen  in  Sir  Edward 
Tennant's  house  in  Queen  Anne's  Gate,  with  other 
canvases  of  distinction. 

The  Duke's  next  act  produced  an  excitement  even 
greater  than  the  selling  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  picture. 
In  1887  he  had  asked  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Robert  Spencer 
to  dinner.  Mr.  Robert  Spencer  had  lately  married 
the  Hon.  Margaret  Baring,  second  daughter  to  Lord 
and  Lady  Revelstoke.  Then  it  came  to  the  Duke's 
knowledge  that  Mr.  Robert  Spencer  had  been  present 
at  the  dinner  given  by  the  Eighty  Club  to  Mr.  Parnell, 
and  he  withdrew  his  invitation.  He  was  not  deterred 
by  the  fact  that  the  invitation  to  Mrs.  Spencer  had 
also  to  be  withdrawn.  In  the  vehemence  of  his  hatred 
to  Home  Rulers,  especially  English  Home  Rulers, 
he  was  ready  to  inflict,  and  did  inflict,  this  grave 
discourtesy  upon  a  woman.  There  were  other  ways 
in  which  he  could  have  avoided  or  evaded  receiving 


THE   FIFTH   EARL   SPENCER         141 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spencer,  but  he  choose  none  of  them. 
Even  the  Duke's  friends,  his  political  and  personal 
friends,  thought  him  wrong ;  and  to  explain  his  act 
he  wrote  a  letter  to  Mr.  Spencer,  which  convinced 
nobody  of  anything  except  that  he  had  made  one 
more  mistake. 

I  do  not  think  that  Lord  Spencer  was  insensible 
to  these  various  evidences  of  hostility,  but  he  showed 
neither  concern  nor  resentment.  He  was  too  proud 
a  man,  and  his  pride  was  of  a  kind  which  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  enter  upon  any  justification 
of  himself.  He  needed  none.  But  he  would  some- 
times, when  asked,  let  a  sentence  or  two  fall  from  his 
lips  which  might  give  you  a  hint,  though  they  never 
seemed  meant  as  explanations.  Like  so  many  others, 
he  felt  the  magic  power  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  and  in 
answer  to  a  remark  about  Mr.  Gladstone's  influence 
he  once  said  : 

"  If  you  have  ever  been  alone  in  a  room  with  Mr. 
Gladstone  for  half  an  hour,  you  would  not  ask  me 
why  I  followed  him." 

In  point  of  fact,  I  had  not  asked. 


n 

Next  to  his  Lord  Lieutenancy  of  Ireland,  Lord 
Spencer's  services  as  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  from 
1892  to  1895,  first  under  Mr.  Gladstone  and  then 
under  Lord  Rosebery,  were  of  the  highest  value  to  the 
country.  He  laid  the  foundation  of  the  system  under 
which  the  British  Navy  has  attained  its  present  power. 
He  did  it  in  spite  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  and  in  spite 
of  Mr.  Gladstone's  ablest  lieutenant.  Sir  William 
Harcourt.     Mr.  Gladstone,   in  truth,  was  not  much 


142       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

better  than  a  Little  Englander.  He  was  not  willing,  at 
any  rate,  to  spend  the  money  on  naval  defence  which 
alone  could  ensure  to  England  her  control  of  the  seas, 
and  therefore  her  Imperial  position.  He  allowed  Sir 
William  Harcourt,  then  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 
and  in  that  capacity,  like  other  Finance  Ministers, 
parsimonious  to  the  great  spending  departments,  to 
assure  the  House  in  1893  that  the  Sea  Lords  of  the 
Admiralty  were  satisfied  with  things  as  they  stood. 
Lord  Spencer  told  Sir  William  Harcourt  that  unless 
that  statement  were  corrected  and  adequate  funds 
provided  for  the  strengthening  of  the  Navy  he  should 
resign.  The  Sea  Lords  reinforced  that  protest, 
and  the  Prime  Minister  and  Chancellor  of  the  Ex- 
chequer were  confronted  with  the  certainty  that  the 
Lords  of  the  Admiralty,  Civil  and  Naval,  would  resign 
in  a  body.  They  put  country  above  party.  Mr. 
Gladstone  had  to  give  way,  and  the  Estimates  of  the 
following  year  were  framed  in  accordance  with  the 
Admiralty  programme.  But  it  was  one  of  the  causes 
which  led  to  Mr.  Gladstone's  resignation ;  none  too  soon. 
I  dwell  no  further  on  Lord  Spencer's  political 
career,  except  to  say  that  he  held  many  high  offices  ; 
that  his  renown  as  a  statesman  grew  steadily  greater  ; 
that,  though  not  an  orator,  he  was  one  of  the  weightiest 
speakers  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  that,  with  the 
Sovereign  and  with  the  nation,  he  held  a  position  of 
high  confidence.  Mr.  Gladstone,  had  he  been  asked 
by  the  Queen  to  recommend  a  successor  on  his  resigna- 
tion in  1894,  would  have  recommended  Lord  Spencer. 
But  Lord  Morley  dryly  remarks,  "  As  it  happened,  his 
advice  was  not  sought."  The  act  of  magnanimity, 
of  patriotic  forgetfulness  of  all  differences  between 
Lord  Spencer  and  himself  which  Mr.  Gladstone  had 
in  mind  could  not  be  performed. 


THE    FIFTH    EARL    SPENCER         143 

There  came  a  note  one  day  from  Lord  Spencer  : 
"  If  you  will  look  in  for  lunch  to-morrow  there's 
something  I  should  like  to  ask  you  about." 

At  that  time  Lord  and  Lady  Spencer  were  living 
in  Spencer  House,  St.  James's  Place.  With  the  dis- 
advantage of  a  confined  entrance,  and  being,  so  far 
as  approach  to  it  and  getting  away  from  it  are  con- 
cerned, in  a  cul-de-sac,  it  is,  nevertheless,  one  of  the 
best  houses  in  London.  The  west  front  looks  out  on 
Green  Park  and  on  Buckingham  Palace  in  the  near 
distance.  Many  of  the  rooms  are  fine,  and  there  are 
fine  pictures.  The  dining-room  is  on  the  first  floor. 
Lunch  over,  we  went  to  Lord  Spencer's  room.  All 
the  world  knew  that  the  great  Althorp  Library  was  to  be 
sold.  Few  people,  I  think,  knew  that  Lord  Spencer 
had  elected  to  sell  it  in  order  to  reduce  the  rents 
on  the  Althorp  property,  and  so  relieve  the  farmers, 
hard  hit  by  American  competition  and  scarce  able  to 
make  both  ends  meet,  let  alone  the  question  of  profit. 
Lord  Dalhousie  had  done  a  similar  thing  on  the 
Brechin  and  Panmure  estates  in  Scotland,  but  such 
instances  were  rare  and  have  not  yet  become  frequent. 
Said  Lord  Spencer  : 

"  I  suppose  you  will  be  sorry  to  hear  that  the 
library  is  sold." 

"  But  it  was  to  be  disposed  of  by  auction." 
"  Yes  ;    but  I  had  an  offer  from  a  private  buyer 
which  I  have  accepted,  and  the  books  are  now  being 
packed  for  removal.    You  were  so  much  interested  in 
them  that  I  thought  you  might  like  to  know." 

There  was  a  moment's  hesitation  ;  then  he  went  on  : 

"  For  the  present  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  tell  you  the 

name  of  the  buyer  nor  the  amount  of  the  purchase 

money.     But  there's  a  matter  on  which  I  should  like 

your  opinion." 


144      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Nor  am  I  at  liberty,  nor  shall  I  ever  be,  to  repeat 
what  Lord  Spencer  then  told  me  about  the  circum- 
stances of  the  sale.  It  became  known  presently  that 
the  buyer  was  Mrs.  Rylands,  of  Manchester,  on  whom 
no  blame  of  any  kind  rests,  and  the  sum  paid  is 
believed  to  have  been  well  over  a  quarter  of  a  million 
sterling,  and  not  far  from  a  million  and  a  half  in 
dollars.  Saying  nothing  about  these  matters,  Lord 
Spencer  briefly  and  very  quietly  stated  the  facts,  and 
the  reasons  why  he  had  not,  in  fact,  received  the  whole 
of  the  purchase  money,  and  asked  me  what  I  thought 
of  the  transaction  as  a  whole. 

"  But  you  say  the  transaction  is  completed." 

"  Yes ;   it  is." 

"  Then  what  is  the  use  of  asking  me  to  advise  you 
about  it  ?    If  you  had  applied  to  me  earlier " 

"  Ah,  I  supposed  you  would  disapprove,  and  that  is 
why  I  did  not  tell  you  at  once.  You  probably  think 
I  had  legal  rights  which  I  might  have  enforced." 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  I  thought  it  all  over  and  made  up  my  mind 
I  could  not  have  a  lawsuit  about  the  library." 

"  Did  you  consult  your  solicitors  ?  " 

"  No.  I  was  afraid  they  would  advise  me  to  contest 
it,  and  you  know  one  doesn't  like  to  go  to  one's 
solicitors  and  then  not  act  on  their  opinion.  I  have 
not  told  them,  nor  anybody  but  you.  I  thought  I 
should  like  to  see  how  you  would  take  it." 

Lord  Spencer  had  a  sense  of  humour  which  he  was 
indulging  at  my  expense.  His  eyes  sparkled,  as  they 
often  did ;  a  gleam  in  them  which  could  be  only  a 
gleam  of  humour.  There  was  no  use  in  remonstrating. 
The  mischief  was  done.  But  I  said  what  I  thought, 
and  my  wrath  seemed  to  amuse  Lord  Spencer  still 
more.     His  conduct  had  been  throughout  that  of  a 


THE   FIFTH   EARL   SPENCER         145 

grand  seigneur.  He  was  that  all  his  life  through  and 
in  every  circumstance  of  his  life,  but  when  it  came  to 
business  matters  and  to  dealing  with  large  sums, 
it  was  to  say  the  least,  expensive.  I  said  finally  I 
could  understand  his  wishing  to  avoid  a  controversy, 
but  how  could  he  submit  to  what  he  thought  an 
unjust  exaction  ? 

"  Don't  you  see,  I  had  to  choose  ?  It  had  to  be  one 
or  the  other.  I  preferred  to  lose  the  money  and  endure 
the  injustice." 

Finally  I  said  that  while  I  would  not  pretend  to 
give  a  legal  opinion,  I  felt  convinced  an  action  could 
still  be  brought,  on  grounds  I  indicated,  for  the  recovery 
of  the  money.    But  Lord  Spencer  shook  his  head. 

"  You  are  only  proposing  to  me  a  lawsuit,  and  that 
I  am  no  more  willing  to  bring  now  than  before." 

We  talked  a  little  of  other  things,  and  before  I  said 
good-bye  I  asked  what  he  meant  to  do  about  the 
empty  bookcases  at  Althorp.  An  expression  I  can 
only  call  pathetic  came  into  his  face. 

"  I  believe  Lady  Spencer  is  already  buying  more 
books.    Will  you  help  her  ?  " 

I  did  look  over  these  new  purchases  from  time  to  time. 
They  served  to  fill  vacant  spaces  but  had  no  other  interest. 

Some  time  after  that  I  heard  of  a  sequel  to  the 
story.  Also  from  Lord  Spencer  himself,  and  also 
after  it  was  all  over.  The  sum  involved  was  very  much 
less,  but  the  impudence  of  the  claim  was  even  more 
flagrant,  and  this  time  I  think  Lord  Spencer  had  been 
for  a  moment  disposed  to  fight  it.  But  he  did  not. 
It  could  not  have  been  done  without  bringing  up  the 
whole  matter,  and  bringing  on  the  scandal  he  was 
resolved  to  prevent.  Not  once  did  he  use  a  hard 
word  about  anybody  concerned.  It  was  not  his  way. 
He  lived  in  the  upper  air. 


146      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

I  had  seen  Lord  Spencer  in  many  circumstances ; 
perhaps  never  before  when  the  line  nature  of  the  man 
shone  out  more  clearly.  He  was  describing  what  to  most 
business  men  would  have  seemed  a  most  unbusinesslike 
proceeding.  He  himself  was  quite  aware  that  it 
would  not  stand  the  tests  which  men  of  the  world 
commonly  apply  to  such  transactions.  But  he  told 
his  story  with  a  simple  dignity  which  was  enchanting. 
He  had  no  apology  to  offer.  He  said  as  Luther  said, 
"  I  could  not  otherwise."  Wise  or  foolish  was  not  to 
him  the  point.  He  had  to  do  it  because  he  was  Lord 
Spencer.  On  the  strong,  benignant  face  there  was 
no  expression  of  regret  or  consciousness  of  fault. 
There  was  no  animosity  against  those  who  had  wronged 
him.  He  was  of  those  who  thought  it  nobler  to 
suffer  an  injury  than  to  resent  it.  He  made  no  pro- 
fessions, quoted  no  text,  had  no  air  of  righteousness. 
He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  and  of  the  great  world, 
who  had  chosen  to  do  what  the  world,  had  it  known, 
would  have  thought  a  foolish  thing.  He  was  content 
that  it  should  be  so. 

I  had  seen  the  great  library  at  Althorp  more  than 
once,  intact.  I  am  not  going  to  describe  it  for 
there  is  no  room  and  descriptions  of  it  are  not  want- 
ing. But  I  saw  it  in  such  a  way  that  I  have  always 
felt  as  if  I  knew  the  collection  better  than  I  did. 
The  hours  I  spent  there  were  hours  of  freedom. 
On  the  morning  after  I  arrived  at  Althorp  Lord 
Spencer  said  at  breakfast  : 

"  You  shall  have  the  keys  and  the  place  to  yourself. 
But  you  will  have  to  find  what  you  want.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  neither  Lady  Spencer  nor  I  can  be  of  any  help. 
We  know  nothing  about  the  treasures  which  have 
made  the  library  famous." 

The  treasures  were  all  in  the  one  square  corner 


THE   FIFTH   EARL  SPENCER         147 

room  at  the  end  of  the  south  corridor.  There  were 
other  books  everywhere.  All  the  passages  and  halls 
were  lined  with  books,  but  they  were  for  the  most  part 
books  which  no  gentleman's  library  should  be  without. 
There  are  hundreds  and  thousands  of  such  collections 
all  over  England,  standard  works,  Parliamentary 
papers,  histories,  cyclopaedias  long  since  out  of  date — 
masses  of  volumes  bought  from  a  sense  of  duty  and 
never  looked  into.  Thousands  of  excellent  books, 
none  of  distinction. 

The  books  of  distinction  were  in  the  square  room. 
The  Valdarfer  Boccaccio  was  there,  the  buying  of 
which  at  the  Roxburghe  sale,  for  a  price  then  without 
precedent,  Emerson  himself  has  sung  in  prose.  The 
Caxtons,  the  old  Bibles,  the  Shakespeares,  the  rarities 
of  many  kinds  which  entitled  the  Lord  Spencer  of 
the  time  to  think  his  the  finest  private  library  in  the 
world,  as  it  probably  was,  were  all  in  this  one  room, 
in  locked  glass  cases  reaching  to  near  the  ceiling.  In 
fine  condition,  as  a  rule,  though  the  Boccaccio  in  its 
smart  modern  binding,  with  edges  cut  close,  was  a 
disappointment.  It  is  so  great  a  library  that  not 
even  the  greasy  rhodomontade  of  Dibdin's  six- 
volume  catalogue  could  degrade  it.  Toward  lunch- 
time  Lord  and  Lady  Spencer  came  in,  asked  how  I 
had  been  getting  on,  and  looked  at  some  of  the  books 
I  had  taken  out  and  was  going  over.  Lord  Spencer 
took  one  into  his  hand,  looked  at  it,  opened  it,  shook 
his  head,  and  laid  it  down  almost  sadly,  saying  : 

"  I  care  for  the  library  because  it  was  my  ancestors' 
and  is  a  part  of  Althorp,  and  a  family  possession. 
But  I  never  could  have  learned  to  value  books  as 
books,  even  precious  books  like  these." 

There  was  a  certain  pathos  in  the  words  as  there 
was  in  his  manner.     But  he  spoke  the  exact  truth. 


148       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

because  it  was  the  truth,  and  he  never  in  his  life 
spoke  anything  else.  In  the  afternoon  we  walked 
across  the  fields  to  Brington  Church,  the  burial- 
place  of  Lawrence  Washington  and  other  Washingtons, 
whose  inscriptions  and  arms  are  to  be  seen  in  the 
brasses  and  pavement  stones  of  the  little  church. 

"  Your  countrymen  are  always  coming  here,"  said 
Lord  Spencer.    "  It  is  an  American  shrine." 

I  said :  "  Yes,  if  we  have  a  saint  in  the  American 
calendar,  it  is  Washington."  He  considered  a  moment, 
and  added  : 

"  Well,  after  all,  he  was  an  Englishman." 

I  told  him  I  had  more  than  once  heard  Sir  William 
Harcourt  say  that  all  the  great  Americans  of  that 
great  period  were  English. 

"  True,  but  they  were  Englishmen  who  chose  to  be 
Americans." 

An  answer  which  would  have  pleased  Harcourt 
and  silenced  him. 

Long  as  Earl  Spencer  had  been  out  of  the  public 
eye,  the  English  evidently  feel  his  loss,  and  feel  that 
one  of  the  truest  Englishmen  of  his  time  and  of 
all  time  is  gone.  The  Irish  themselves,  the  men, 
or  some  of  them,  who  heaped  hateful  epithets  upon 
him,  and  then,  after  he  accepted  Home  Rule,  heaped 
eulogies  on  him  more  hateful  still,  now  pay  him  a 
homage  which  has  nothing  political  in  it.  He  passed 
outside  of  politics  upon  his  wife's  death.  That  was 
the  end  of  everything  for  him.  "  I  have  lost  all — 
literally  all."  The  firmness  of  his  character  was  shaken 
for  the  first  time  by  that  grief.  With  the  strength 
of  his  character  there  was  always  sweetness,  always 
beauty  ;  always  a  noble  conception  of  life,  and  he  so 
lived  his  own  life  as  to  make  his  conception  a  noble 
reality. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  LATE  VISCOUNT  GOSCHEN— A   VERY  INDI- 
VIDUAL  ANGLO-GERMAN    ENGLISHMAN 

"  A    VIOLENT  moderate  man." 

Such  was  the  late  Lord  Goschen's  description 
of  himself.  But  he  was  not,  in  truth,  violent,  and 
not  moderate.     Otherwise  the  description  is  accurate. 

Not  violent,  I  should  say,  but  contentious.  Not 
moderate,  but  an  opportunist,  when  he  was  not  too 
stubborn.  The  epithets,  one  set  or  the  other,  have 
no  particular  value.  A  man  is  not  to  be  summed 
up  in  an  adjective  ;  least  of  all  a  man  whose  life  was 
public,  who  was  everywhere  to  be  met,  who  spoke 
in  Parliament  and  talked  without  stint  in  private  ; 
who  was  long  a  Minister  of  the  Crown,  a  man  of 
business,  of  affairs,  of  very  varied  and  substantial 
gifts.  Character  and  achievement  are  what  you 
judge  by,  in  such  a  life  as  his.  So  judged,  he  stands 
rather  high,  if  not  quite  so  high  as  his  invincible 
confidence  in  himself  would  put  him. 

To  take  the  man  of  business  first.  I  always  thought 
his  best  eulogy  came  from  the  City.  That  is  where 
the  brains  of  finance  are  to  be  found.  I  have  often 
asked,  and  I  have  always  had  the  same  answer.  The 
great  bankers  and  merchants  of  the  City  of  London 
thought  Mr.  Goschen,  as  he  then  was,  a  first-rate 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and  did  not  think  Mr. 
Gladstone  first-rate.  As  for  his  conversion  of  Consols, 
reducing  the  rate   of  interest  first   to   zf  per   cent 

149 


I50       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

and  then  to  2^,  the  manner  of  the  operation  was 
reckoned  masterly.  Whether  the  result  of  it  and  the 
effect  on  public  credit  can  be  deemed  favourable  is 
another  question.  But  it  embedded  his  name  in 
financial  history,  since  reduced  Consols  have  ever 
since  been  known  as  "  Goschens."  He  went  out 
of  business  rather  early,  his  fortune  seeming  to  him 
sufficient,  and  thenceforward  devoted  himself  in 
one  way  or  another  to  politics. 

My  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Goschen  stretched 
over  a  long  period  but  was  never  in  the  least  intimate. 
I  used  to  meet  him  at  dinners  or  at  houses  in  the 
country.  It  happened  sometimes  after  dinner,  when 
the  ladies  had  gone,  that  I  found  myself  next  Mr. 
Goschen,  by  no  choice  of  his  or  mine.  He  was  a 
man  to  be  respected  and  was  respected  ;  and  to  be 
liked  if  you  were  built  that  way.  But  his  idea  of 
conversation  was  to  plunge  at  once  into  argument. 
With  me  he  often  chose  an  American  topic  ;  thinking, 
apparently,  that  on  American  topics  I  needed  en- 
lightenment, as  perhaps  I  did,  and  that  it  was  his 
mission  to  enlighten  me,  which  did  not  logically 
follow.  Still,  I  thought  it  very  good  of  him  to  try. 
His  mental  attitude  was  not  unlike  that  of  the  late 
Empress  Frederick,  when,  as  I  have  elsewhere  re- 
lated. Her  Royal  Highness — then  Crown  Princess — 
was  good  enough  to  set  forth  at  length  her  views 
on  things  American  for  my  benefit  and  instruction. 

None  the  less,  there  was  a  certain  pleasure  in  listen- 
ing to  Mr.  Goschen.  He  knew  as  much  of  America 
as  most  Englishmen  of  his  time  knew  ;  perhaps  more. 
But  whether  he  knew  much  or  little,  listening  to 
him  was  an  exercise  of  the  mind.  He  understood 
logic.  Grant  him  his  premise,  and  he  led  you  step 
by  step  irresistibly  to  his  conclusion.    I  used  sometimes 


THE   LATE   VISCOUNT   GOSCHEN     151 

to  wonder  where  he  got  his  premises.  The  office  he 
held  brought  him  into  no  relation  with  the  Govern- 
ment of  the  United  States.  In  the  English  newspapers, 
at  that  time,  the  American  news  was  meagre  and 
trivial.  No  doubt  Mr.  Goschen's  firm  in  the  City 
had  correspondents  in  New  York,  but  information 
from  that  source  would  relate  chiefly  to  the  money 
market.  Mr.  Goschen,  nevertheless,  ranged  over 
a  wide  American  field.  I  must  do  him  the  justice 
to  say  that  though  he  dogmatized  he  liked  to  be 
answered.  He  liked  you,  as  the  English  generally 
do,  to  stand  up  to  him,  if  only  for  the  pleasure  of 
bowling  you  over.  Once  I  happened  to  say  I  agreed 
with  him.     Instantly  he  retorted  : 

"  No,  that  is  not  what  I  want.  Even  if  you  agree 
with  me  you  know  the  other  side  of  the  case,  and 
that  is  what  I  wish  to  hear." 

Again  it  might  be  that  he  wanted  a  statement  of 
the  other  side  in  order  to  demolish  it.  No  matter. 
His  was  the  attitude  of  a  man  who  desired  to  get 
at  the  truth,  and,  if  he  did  not  think  the  truth  attain- 
able otherwise,  then  controversially.  His  desire  to 
get  it  somehow  was  laudable.  It  remained  laudable 
even  if  by  and  by  you  came  to  see,  or  to  believe, 
that  he  thought  the  true  home  of  truth  not  at  the 
bottom  of  a  well  but  in  his  own  head.  A  good  many 
people  think  the  same  of  their  heads.  Said  Mr. 
Goschen  once  : 

"  Well,  the  truth  must  be  somewhere,  and  truth 
is  not  a  matter  of  opinion  but  of  fact." 

"  Mr.  Ruskin  said  the  same  thing  of  art,"  I  answered, 
well  knowing  he  did  not  regard  Mr.  Ruskin  as  an  oracle, 
and  eliciting  the  retort  I  hoped  for  : 

"  Why  do  you  quote  Ruskin  to  me  and  what  has 
art  to  do  with  the  question  we  are  discussing  ?  " 


152       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

There  you  saw  the  man's  habit  of  mind.  He 
fastened  upon  his  subject.  Nothing  could  divert 
him  from  it.  No  illustration,  no  analogy,  was  to  the 
point.  He  kept  as  rigidly  to  the  proposition  he  had 
laid  down  as  Euclid  to  his  geometrical  demonstrations. 
Early  in  life  he — I  mean  Mr.  Goschen,  not  Euclid — 
wrote  a  book  on  The  Theory  of  the  Foreign  Exchanges. 
Exchange,  that  is,  in  the  financial  sense  of  the  word. 
I  have  never  read  it,  and  am  quite  sure  I  should  not 
understand  it  if  I  did.  But  I  have  been  told  that 
from  beginning  to  end  it  is  a  chain  of  inseparable 
links.  He  writes  on  this  abstruse  subject  with  mathe- 
matical precision.  I  should  be  very  much  surprised 
if  he  did  not. 

The  one  impossible  subject  was  Free  Trade  and 
Protection.  He  had  in  the  highest  degree  the  in- 
tellectual arrogance  of  the  confirmed  Free  Trader. 
He  knew  perfectly  well  that  the  whole  world,  England 
excepted,  was  Protectionist,  yet  he  could  not  discuss 
it  unless  in  a  tone  which  implied  contempt  for  the 
Protectionist.  Yet  he  did  his  best  to  be  polite,  in  the 
beginning. 

"  I  suppose  you,  like  all  intelligent  Americans, 
must  deplore  the  Protectionist  policy  of  your  Govern- 
ment." 

"  No,  I  am  a  Protectionist,  and  if  you  make  belief 
in  Free  Trade — your  kind  of  Free  Trade — a  test 
of  intelligence  in  the  United  States,  there  are  not 
more  than  half  a  dozen  intelligent  Americans,  and 
they  are  college  professors." 

He  was  a  man  to  attract  attention  anywhere. 
Tall,  strongly  built,  the  shoulders  powerful,  a  little 
rounded  and  with  a  just  perceptible  stoop,  his  head 
bent,  as  often  happens  to  men  who  have  a  weight 
of  brains  to  carry.    The  features  were  largely  moulded, 


THE   LATE   VISCOUNT   GOSCHEN     153 

and  he  had  such  a  look  of  the  Jew  in  him  that  he 
thought  it  desirable  to  deny  that  he  was  of  Jewish 
descent.  Hebraic  he  was  not,  but  Teutonic.  His 
abrupt  manner  showed  that.  Plainly  a  personage  ; 
but  more  impressive  than  sympathetic.  His  short- 
sightedness took  from  his  appearance  and  put  him 
at  a  disadvantage.  The  steadfast  gaze  was  lacking. 
He  peered  out  upon  the  world.  But  he  bore  this 
misfortune,  as  he  bore  other  things,  with  a  philosophy 
which  strove  to  master  an  impatient  temper,  and 
sometimes  succeeded.  In  a  country  house  known  as 
South  Hill  Park,  where  I  sometimes  met  him,  was 
an  oak  staircase,  the  oak  steps  polished  and  uncarpeted  ; 
treacherous  even  to  good  eyes.  Goschen  clung  to 
the  hand-rail  as  we  went  down,  and  at  the  bottom 
said  : 

"  Every  time  I  descend  these  stairs  safely  it 
strengthens  my  firm  belief  in  an  overruling  and 
beneficent  Providence." 

Not  without  reason  was  he  grateful,  but  a  spice 
of  danger  was  welcome  in  a  house  of  peaceful  beauty, 
where  attractions  of  many  kinds  abounded ;  Lord 
and  Lady  Haversham  being  two. 

As  a  speaker  Lord  Goschen  had  two  physical 
defects.  He  was  extremely  near-sighted  and  his 
voice  was  harsh.  An  orator — which  he  never  was, 
though  a  good  debater — needs  to  be  able  to  watch 
the  faces  of  those  to  whom  he  is  talking.  If  he 
cannot  do  that,  he  cannot  judge  of  the  effect  he  is 
producing  ;  the  expression  of  the  features  being  far 
more  significant  than  applause  or  audible  dissent. 
As  he  could  not  see  these  expressions,  he  could  not 
vary  his  speech  to  suit  the  mood  of  his  audience, 
as  all  great  orators  do,  since  oratory  is  an  appeal, 
and  by  no  means  a  spoken  essay.     His  voice  was  so 


154      ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

thin  and  raucous  that  you  had  to  forget  it  in  order 
to  open  your  mind  to  what  he  was  saying  ;  nor  was 
his  bearing  good,  or  his  manner.  He  seemed  never 
to  care  to  persuade,  but  only  to  convince  ;  which 
is  fine  from  the  moral  point  of  view  but  ineffective 
on  the  platform  or  even  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
In  neither  place  do  you  get  a  fair  hearing  for  your 
arguments  unless  you  first  win  the  sympathies  of 
your  hearers. 

The  same  defects  impaired  the  effect  of  his  con- 
versation, though  perhaps  in  a  less  degree.  As  he 
talked,  the  eyes  narrowed  in  the  attempt  to  see 
clearly ;  the  brows  knitted  ;  the  features  were  dis- 
torted, and  the  voice  was  rasping.  Charm  of  manner 
he  had  none,  though  I  believe  when  you  knew  him 
well  his  character  had  the  charm  which  springs  from 
sincerity  and  from  unusual  mental  powers ;  if  indeed 
that  be  charm.  All  the  same,  you  felt  you  were  in 
the  presence  of  a  masterful  personality  with  abilities 
equal  to  any  post  ;  with  a  record  of  great  and  various 
services  equalled  by  few  men  of  his  time.  He  had 
been  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  as  well  as  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer,  and  special  Ambassador  to  Con- 
stantinople in  a  formidable  crisis.  He  had  declined 
the  Speakership — where  he  would  have  been  out  of 
place — and  the  Viceroyalty  of  India.  The  flowing 
tide  of  Democracy  was  not  strong  enough  to  carry 
Goschen  with  it.  He  stood  on  the  bank  and  watched 
the  surging  of  the  torrent  seaward,  bearing,  as  he 
thought,  destruction  with  it.  Because  he  adhered 
to  the  convictions  which  Mr.  Gladstone  had  abandoned 
he  was  not  asked  to  join  Mr.  Gladstone's  Cabinet  in 
1880.  All  honour  to  him.  Mr.  ElHot,  whose  rather 
mechanical  and  almost  impersonal  Life  of  Goschen 
has    lately    appeared,    quotes    from    a    talk    between 


THE   LATE   VISCOUNT   GOSCHEN     155 

Palmerston  and  Goschen  a  sentence  of  fire.  Palmer- 
ston  had  told  his  young  colleague  he  need  not  trouble 
his  head  at  present  about  domestic  reforms.  The 
book  was  closed — for  Palmerston. 

"  But  you  will  soon  have  Gladstone  and  then  you 
will  see  strange  things." 

He  did  see  them.  We  all  saw  them,  and  it  was 
Mr.  Goschen's  high  task  to  lead  the  Liberal  revolt 
against  Mr.  Gladstone's  Home  Rule  policy  of  1886; 
while  Mr.  Chamberlain  was  still  weighing  chances 
and  considering  compromises,  and  while  Lord  Harting- 
ton  was  making  up  his  mind  ;  always  with  him  a  slow 
process. 

And  when  Mr.  Goschen,  because  Lord  Randolph 
Churchill  forgot  him,  became  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer  in  Lord  Salisbury's  Government,  he  had 
already  founded  the  Unionist  Party,  and  had  become, 
as  Mr.  Garvin  well  describes  him,  "  a  sort  of  living 
link  between  the  Conservatives  and  their  new  allies, 
and  an  inspiring  agent  in  giving  moral  unity  to  the 
coalition."  If  Lord  Randolph  "  forgot  Goschen,"  it 
is  certain  that  Mr.  Gladstone  never  forgave  Goschen ; 
no,  nor  any  of  the  other  great,  true  Liberals  who 
forsook  their  leader  rather  than  forsake  their  principles. 
In  the  Grand  Old  Man — how  that  phrase,  once  in 
all  mouths,  has  passed  out  of  use  ! — was  also  a  vin- 
dictive old  man.  You  opposed  him  at  your  peril. 
But  not  for  one  moment  did  Goschen  hesitate. 
If  all  else  be  forgotten,  that  act  of  wise  courage  will 
preserve  his  memory. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MR.    GOLDWIN    SMITH,    SCHOLAR,    APOSTLE, 
HISTORIAN,   WRITER   OF    ENGLISH 

TN  his  original  form  Mr.  Goldwin  Smith  was  a 
survival  of  the  Renaissance.  He  was  born  out  of 
due  time.  By  nature  he  was  a  scholar,  which  is  a 
contradiction  in  terms  but  true.  He  was  in  truth 
a  scholar  of  many  accomplishments — the  Humanities, 
History,  Political  and  Economical  Science,  and  much 
else.  You  could  imagine  him  living  his  life  in  an 
Oxford  quadrangle,  quite  happy  and  quite  useful 
in  a  way ;  in  the  way  of  the  quadrangle.  But  there 
was  another  Goldwin  Smith,  a  kind  of  apostle,  with 
a  message  from  on  High  to  preach  the  Gospel.  That 
is  the  Goldwin  Smith  the  world  knew  for  near  sixty 
years. 

Yet  the  Gospel  he  preached  was  his  own,  and 
not  always  the  same.  Moreover,  from  time  to  time 
the  original  Goldwin  Smith  reappeared,  as  it  did 
at  Cornell.  That  was  after  he  had  endured  a  period 
of  disappointment. 

But  the  impression  he  left  after  many  years  of 
acquaintance  was  the  same.  We  met,  not  fre- 
quently, but  always  on  exactly  the  same  terms. 
He  wrote  to  me,  not  frequently,  yet  in  the  course  of 
years  a  large  number  of  letters ;  all  exactly  alike. 
We  were  friends,  but  never  said  anything  about  it. 
His  letters  began,  "  My  dear  Smalley,"  and  plunged 
at  once  into  the  discussion  of  the  topic  at  that  moment 

156 


MR.    GOLDWIN   SMITH  157 

uppermost  in  his  mind  ;  or  of  the  matter  in  which  he 
thought  I  might,  as  a  journalist,  be  useful  to  him 
or  to  his  scheme.  They  ended  not  less  abruptly. 
Within  four  pages  he  would  have  stated  his  case 
with  the  force  and  clearness  he  used  in  print ;  then 
without  a  word  of  transition,  "  Very  truly  yours, 
Goldwin  Smith."  At  one  time  he  wrote  much  about 
Canada  and  her  relations  to  the  United  States,  and 
the  inevitability  of  her  annexation  by  the  United 
States,  for  commercial  if  not  political  reasons.  He 
was  surprised  that  I,  as  an  American,  did  not  share 
his  views,  but  he  never  tired  of  stating  and  restating 
them,  until  finally  he  either  abandoned  them  him- 
self or  became  convinced  that  neither  in  Canada  nor 
in  the  United  States  was  there  any  important  party 
of  his  mind. 

I  kept  these  letters,  and  if  I  could  get  leave  from 
his  executors  would  print  them,  or  some  of  them. 
But  I  am  under  no  temptation  at  present  to  do  it  with- 
out leave,  for  they  are  all  locked  up  with  a  great  many 
more  not  less  valuable,  in  a  safe  deposit  vault  in  New 
York.     And  I  have  not  the  courage  to  disturb  them. 

When  we  met,  much  the  same  thing  happened 
as  when  we  wrote.  A  word  or  two,  perhaps,  of  greet- 
ing, and  then  to  business.  I  used  to  think  it  a  pity 
his  interests  were  so  many.  As  he  could  not  deal 
with  them  all  exhaustively  he  dealt  with  most  of  them 
fragmentarily.  He  became  a  journalist.  He  wrote 
no  matter  where,  and  on  whatever  subject  had  him 
at  the  time  in  its  grip.  The  Bystander^  which  he 
founded  and  supported,  never,  I  think,  had  a  large 
circulation,  nor  ever  much  influence  except  of  a 
secondary  kind ;  often  the  most  important  of  all. 
I  mean  that  he  reached  the  minds  of  other  writers 
and  editors,  and  of  many  who  were  neither  but  read 


158       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

this  queer  sheet  in  order  to  know  what  Goldwin 
Smith  was  thinking  about.  No  medium  of  com- 
munication with  the  pubUc  was  too  insignificant. 
When  he  used  it  it  ceased  to  be  insignificant. 

He  did  much  for  Oxford.  He  did  much  for  Cornell. 
His  multifarious  activities  were  likely  to  be  pro- 
ductive whether  they  seemed  to  be  right  or  seemed 
to  succeed  or  not.  For  his  was  a  fertilizing  mind, 
and  stony  indeed  must  be  the  ground  where  what 
he  sowed  would  not  take  root.  But  if  I  am  to  single 
out  one  service  he  did  I  should  take  The  United  States  : 
An  Outline  oj  Political  History,  1492-1871.  He  meant 
it  chiefly  for  England.  But  it  happens  to  be  the 
best  history  of  its  kind  there  is,  whether  for  Americans 
or  English,  and  it  was  the  first  history  in  which  the 
anti-English  prejudice  which  disfigures  most  histories 
by  American  writers  had  been  omitted.  The  good 
example  has  since  been  followed,  but  it  was  Goldwin 
Smith  who  set  the  example.  It  is,  moreover,  a  master- 
piece of  narrative.  The  author  was  for  so  many  years 
accused  by  Canadians  of  being  too  American  that  to 
Americans  he  cannot  but  be  known  as  a  friend. 
Yet  let  me  quote  a  sentence  from  the  Preface  to  this 
History  : 

"  If  it  comes  into  the  hands  of  an  American, 
his  liberality  will  make  allowance  for  the  position 
of  an  Englishman  who  regards  the  American  Common- 
wealth as  the  great  achievement  of  his  race,  and  looks 
forward  to  the  voluntary  reunion  of  the  American 
branches  of  the  race  within  its  pale,  yet  desires 
to  do  justice  to  the  mother  country,  and  to  render 
to  her  the  meed  of  gratitude  which  will  always  be  her 
due." 

That  was  dated  in  1893,  five  years  before  England's 
refusal  to  join  the  European  coalition  in  favour  of 


MR.    GOLDWIN    SMITH  159 

Spain  and  against  the  United  States  taught  us  that 
England  was  our  friend. 

One  thing  more.  Goldwin  Smith  never  lost 
his  distinction  as  a  writer  because  of  his  continuous 
immersions  in  journalism.  He  is  a  lesson  to  us  all. 
The  lesson  is  there  but  the  learners  are  never  too 
many.  Perhaps  the  coldness  of  his  temperament 
helped  him.  In  none  of  his  handwriting  that  ever 
I  saw  was  there  a  trace  of  hurry  or  of  impetuous 
feeling.  The  stream  was  full  but  did  not  overflow 
its  banks.  For  his  style  I  go  further  back  than  the 
Renaissance.  He  had  something  of  the  purity  of 
the  Greeks ;  the  simplicity,  the  absence  of  emphasis, 
the  total  neglect  of  the  superlative  and  the  intensive 
adverb.  I  do  not  know  whom  of  his  contemporaries 
to  put  above  him  as  a  writer,  nor  whom  to  put  beside 
him.  In  the  measured  and  melodious  flow  of  his 
prose,  in  its  restrained  force,  in  the  beauty  of  its 
grave  cadences,  in  its  purely  intellectual  quality  and, 
as  a  rule,  in  its  distinction,  he  stands  by  himself. 
He  could  hit  very  hard,  and  often  did,  but  there 
was  something  judicial  in  his  anger  ;  it  was  not  passion, 
but  a  process  of  the  mind. 

In  his  melancholy  quarrel  with  Disraeli  it  was 
Goldwin  Smith  who  began.  His  criticisms  upon  the 
great  Tory  were  acrimonious  because  they  took  no 
account  of  circumstances  nor  of  differing  points  of 
view.  When  Disraeli  replied  by  calling  his  critic  a 
parasite,  the  reply  was  neither  apt  nor  damaging. 
But  it  angered  Goldwin  Smith,  whose  message  from 
beyond  the  Atlantic  about  "  the  stingless  insults 
of  a  coward  "  was  no  better  than  Disraeli's  taunt. 
The  Tory  leader  could  strike  blows  that  hurt  when 
he  cared  to,  but  he  often  contented  himself  with 
an   expression   of  contempt,   almost   always  a   cheap 


i6o       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

retort  because  not  often  sincere  and  still  less  often 
energetic.  That  seems  to  have  been  all  he  meant 
to  suggest  when  he  remarked  :  "  I  am  told  I  am  pur- 
sued in  the  public  press  by  an  Oxford  Professor  named 
Smith." 

If  the  Oxford  Professor  had  political  ambitions, 
as  he  had,  a  wrangle  of  this  sort  with  Disraeli  was 
not  the  way  to  promote  them.  But  there  were 
other  reasons  which  stood  in  the  way.  Two  things 
darkened  his  life  and  changed  its  course.  The  first 
was  his  failure  to  win  the  Oriel  fellowship  on  which 
his  heart  was  set,  and  the  success  of  his  rival  Dean 
Burgon  whom  he  called  a  buifoon,  as  perhaps  he 
was.  It  may  seem  no  great  matter,  especially  as  he 
did  secure  a  University  College  fellowship,  and  as 
his  Oxford  career  was  starred  with  scholarships  and 
prizes,  and  later  he  became  Regius  Professor  of  Modern 
History  at  Oxford.  But  he  was  profoundly  chagrined 
and  he  did  not  conceal  his  chagrin.  He  carried  it 
with  him  across  the  Atlantic  ;  it  was  one  of  the  causes 
which  drove  him  into  exile.  The  second  of  the  two 
tragedies  was  the  insanity  of  his  father,  a  doctor  in 
Reading,  Berks  ;  and  the  dread  lest  a  similar  fate 
might  be  his ;  happily  a  groundless  dread.  But  it 
is  easy  to  understand  that  a  man  pursued  by  such 
a  phantom  as  that  might  shrink  from  the  collisions 
of  public  life. 

During  visits  to  Canada  I  used  to  hear  Goldwin 
Smith  discussed  in  varying  tones.  The  fact  that 
he  took  Cornell  on  his  way  did  not  predispose  the 
Canadians  to  like  him.  Were  there  not  universities 
in  Canada,  and  was  not  an  Englishman's  first  duty 
to  his  own  country  and  her  outlying  provinces  ? 
Then  came  his  theory  of  Canadian  absorption  by 
the  United  States,  which  Canada  hated,  and  from 


MR.    GOLDWIN    SMITH  i6i 

hating  the  theory  to  hating  the  author  of  it  was 
no  long  step.  By  and  hy  the  theory  was  reHnquished, 
and  the  theorist  became  popular  on  quite  other 
grounds,  and  remained  so.  There  grew  up  an  affection 
toward  him.  His  choice  of  Canada  for  his  home  lent 
distinction  to  the  Dominion,  and  his  life  was  filled 
with  proofs  of  devotion  to  the  land  in  which  he  had 
chosen  to  dwell.  But  now,  since  his  death,  comes 
the  gift  of  his  fortune  to  Cornell,  and  this,  naturally 
enough,  is  resented.  Why  should  an  Englishman 
endow  an  American  college  ?  But  the  Englishman 
had  spent  a  great  part  of  his  life  in  trying  to  abolish 
some  of  the  barriers  between  English  and  Americans, 
between  what  he  always  regarded  as  two  halves  of  the 
one  British  race.  He  had  other  enthusiasms,  some  of 
which  he  kept  in  cold  storage  and  took  out  as  they 
were  wanted.     But  they  were  enthusiasms  still. 

The  Englishman  to  whom  Goldwin  Smith  seems 
nearest  akin,  intellectually  and  personally,  is  Lord 
Morley.  Yet  instantly  contrasts  present  themselves, 
and  the  contrasts  seem  sharper  than  the  likenesses. 
Lord  Morley  long  had  in  him,  and  still  has,  not  less 
of  the  ascetic  than  Goldwin  Smith,  yet  this  did  not 
prevent  him  from  entering  public  life  and  making 
himself  a  great  place  there,  which  he  still  keeps. 
The  asceticism  was  somehow  consistent  with  a  real 
sweetness  of  nature  and  a  real  sympathetic  concern 
in  the  interests  of  others.  He  left  journalism,  as 
Lord  Milner  did,  for  politics,  high  politics,  and  for 
years  he  governed  290,000,000  of  Oriental  subjects  of 
the  Crown.  He  had  laid  aside  so  much  of  his  early 
Radicalism  as  would  have  made  his  Secretaryship 
of  India  a  disaster.  He  did  not  apply  to  the  govern- 
ment of  the  great  military  dependency  of  India 
the  principles  of  Mr.   Keir  Hardie   or   of  our  great 


i62       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Mr.  Bryan,  who  based  his  eight  columns  of  criticism 
upon  EngHsh  rule  in  India  on  the  ignorant  belief  that 
India  is  a  colony.  Lord  Morley,  in  short,  is  so  con- 
stituted that  he  is  capable  of  compromise,  and  has 
that  practical  side  to  his  character  which  has  made 
him  a  very  able,  very  useful,  very  sensible  Cabinet 
Minister.  If  I  were  to  enter  upon  a  parallel  between 
him  and  Goldwin  Smith  I  should  have  to  leave  out 
all  that.  The  parallel  between  them  lies  in  their 
intellectual  qualities,  their  capacity  for  scholarship, 
their  unswerving  loyalty  to  ideals,  and  in  each  a  touch 
of  something  like  fanaticism  ;  in  Lord  Morley  his 
"  sombre  acquiescence  "  in  the  ferocities  of  the  French 
Revolution,  and  in  Goldwin  Smith  his  long-cherished 
but  academic  faith  in  the  readiness  of  the  Canadians 
to  cease  to  be  Canadians. 


CHAPTER   XV 

PRINCE    FRANCIS   OF   TECK 

*"  I  ""O  the  late  King  he  was  always  "  My  dear  Frank." 
To  the  German  Emperor  he  was  "  My  dear 
Frank." 

To  the  present  King  and  to  the  Queen,  whose 
brother  he  was,  he  could  hardly  be  anything  else. 

But  to  his  friends  and  to  many  who  were  hardly 
more  than  acquaintances  he  was  "  Frank  "  and  "  My 
dear  Frank."  Which  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  he 
was  a  very  popular  man  :  as  he  was.  He  was  not  a 
Royalty,  but  he  stood  upon  the  steps  of  the  Throne. 
It  is  a  difficult  position.  His  mother,  the  late  Duchess 
of  Teck,  was  one  of  the  best-liked  women  in  England  ; 
also  in  a  difficult  position.  His  father,  the  Duke  of 
Teck,  had  a  kindliness  of  manner,  and  therefore 
presumably  of  nature,  not  always,  though  often, 
found  in  Serenities. 

The  English  people  have  had  a  long  apprenticeship 
in  such  matters,  but  these  German  titles  never  come 
very  trippingly  off  an  English  tongue  ;  nor  are  the 
things  they  represent  a  natural  outgrowth  of  English 
life.  Inextricably  interlaced  as  they  are  with  what  is 
purely  insular,  they  are  accepted  but  they  are  not 
welcomed  for  their  own  sake.  The  welcome  depends 
on  the  character  of  those  to  whom  their  German 
distinctions  belong  by  birth.  It  adds  to  the  per- 
plexity of  the  average  Englishman  when  he  finds  a 
Prince,  who  on  one  side  of  him  is  English,  inferior 

163 


i64       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

in  rank  to  a  Duke.  Prince  Francis  of  Teck  was  a 
second  son.  His  elder  brother  is  Duke  of  Teck.  There 
is  a  third  son,  Prince  Alexander.  Their  mother  was 
sister  to  the  late  Duke  of  Cambridge  and  cousin  to 
the  late  King. 

I  must  use  the  word  popular,  with  reference  to  this 
family,  over  and  over  again.  The  Duchess  of  Teck 
had  a  popularity  of  a  very  remarkable  kind.  She 
laughed  her  way  through  life.  It  was  perhaps  for  her 
the  easiest  way  of  getting  on,  for  she  was  very  stout 
and  did  not  like  walking.  A  genial,  cheerful,  sympa- 
thetic soul.  Her  daughter,  the  present  Queen,  was 
popular  as  a  girl.  When  the  late  Prince  Eddy,  the 
late  King's  eldest  son,  asked  her  to  be  his  wife  and  she 
consented,  all  England  applauded.  It  was  not  a 
brilliant  match.  The  Heir  to  the  Throne  of  England 
might  be  expected  to  mate  with  the  best  Royalty 
there  was  on  the  Continent,  but  brilliancies  of  that 
kind  are  not  what  the  English  people  care  most  for. 
They  liked  this  girl.  They  liked  her  fresh  face  and 
pretty  manner  and  her  friendliness.  At  a  garden 
party  at  Marlborough  House  she  appeared  on  the 
terrace  after  the  gardens  were  filled,  and  stood  there 
a  moment  looking  down  on  the  scene.  There  was 
something  like  a  murmur  of  admiration ;  the  nearest 
permissible  approach  to  applause  in  the  circumstances. 
The  Queen  was  present,  sitting  under  a  tree,  and 
noticed  it  and  her  sad  face  brightened.  Mr.  Gladstone 
was  there  and  took  note  of  the  incident  for  his  own 
purposes  :  his  face  wearing  the  look  of  instantaneous 
concentration  often  seen  in  the  House  of  Commons 
when  debate  took  an  unexpected  and  personal  turn. 
When  Prince  Eddy  died  it  was  thought  right  that  his 
younger  brother.  Prince  George,  should  succeed  him 
as  suitor  to  Princess  Mary  of  Teck  as  well  as  in  his 


PRINCE   FRANCIS    OF   TECK  165 

heirship  to  the  Crown.  And  so  it  happened  that  the 
Princess,  more  often  called  Princess  May,  came  to 
be  Queen  of  England  ;  and  is  loved  as  Queen  by  her 
people,  who  loved  her  as  Princess  May. 

If  I  were  writing  of  a  death  which  had  occurred 
a  hundred  or  two  hundred  years  ago,  I  might  say  : 

A  King  and  Queen  stood  by  his  bed  ;  visited  him 
during  his  last  illness  ;  were  with  him  when  he  died, 
and  mourn  for  him  now  that  he  is  gone.  They  were  the 
King  and  Queen  of  England. 

To  many  a  loyal  subject  that  would  be  something 
more  than  a  consolation  in  his  last  hours.  To  Prince 
Francis  it  could  only  have  meant  that  the  Queen 
was  his  sister.  Family  ties  are  strong  in  this  Royal 
Family.  It  is  one  of  the  reasons  of  the  hold  they 
have  upon  the  affections  of  the  people  of  England. 

There  are  critics  who  say  that  Prince  Francis 
might  have  been  saved.  He  would  not  have  been  ill 
had  he  not  gone  to  Balmoral  before  he  had  really 
recovered  from  the  operation  on  the  throat  of  three 
weeks  before.  He  was  not  well  enough  for  the  return 
journey,  but  it  was  a  choice  between  that  and  staying 
on  in  a  climate  which,  to  him,  had  become  deadly. 
Once  here,  and  in  a  nursing  home  in  Welbeck  Street, 
pneumonia  had  mastered  the  patient.  His  was  the 
kind  of  constitution,  robust  and  of  abounding  vitality, 
in  which  that  malady  plays  worst  havoc. 

Moreover,  it  begins  to  be  said  that  in  respect  of 
certain  maladies  Continental  methods  of  cure  are 
more  efficient  than  English.  The  late  King's  was  a 
different  and  more  difficult  case,  but  there  were 
plenty  of  doctors  in  Paris  and  Berlin  who  thought, 
and  said,  that  he  ought  not  to  have  been  allowed  to 
die.  I  have  heard  here  in  London  the  same  remark 
on   Prince   Francis   of  Tcck.      But   that    is   a   purely 


i66       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

Continental  view.  The  Prince  had  the  best  treatment 
England  could  give  him. 

Prince  Francis  was  a  soldier  and  a  good  officer. 
He  had  served  in  India,  in  Egypt  with  Lord  Kit- 
chener, and  in  South  Africa  ;  ending  as  brevet-major 
in  the  1st  Dragoons  with  a  D.S.O.  and  the  Queen's 
Medal  with  three  clasps.  I  was  talking  last  night 
with  an  officer  who  had  served  in  South  Africa  with 
even  greater  distinction  than  Prince  Francis.  He 
said  : 

"  There  was  this  about  Francis  Teck.  He  could 
get  men  to  do  things  that  other  officers  could  not. 
He  was  careless  about  danger.  He  had  a  great  power 
of  work  and  an  organizing  ability,  and  looked  after  his 
men  thoroughly.  That  is  the  kind  of  officer  for  whom 
men  will  do  their  best." 

He  looked  it.  He  was  a  soldier  all  over  ;  tall — 
I  should  think  six  feet — well  set  up,  powerfully  built, 
with  an  air  of  command  which  in  private  he  tried  to 
suppress  but  could  not  quite.  He  was  one  of  the  big- 
nosed  men  whom  Carlyle  respected  ;  but  the  rest  of 
the  features  were  in  proportion,  and  the  impression 
of  energy  was  not  restricted  to  any  one  feature,  but 
came  from  the  whole  presence  of  the  man. 

I  met  him  oftenest  at  a  certain  club  where  many 
kinds  of  persons  are  to  be  met,  most  of  whom  have 
some  title  or  other  to  distinction  ;  not  all,  because 
every  club  has  its  mistakes.  Wherever  you  met  him 
he  was  the  same.  A  great  suavity  of  manner  and  a 
great  energy  of  manner  at  the  same  time  ;  perhaps 
an  unusual  combination.  The  more  a  man  bored  him 
the  politer  he  would  be.  Into  whatever  occupied  him 
for  the  moment  he  put  his  whole  soul.  He  would 
not  talk  to  you  about  it  unless  you  were  interested 
and  asked  ;   then  he  would  pour  out  details.    He  had 


PRINCE   FRANCIS   OF   TECK  167 

devoted  himself  to  setting  up  an  Automobile  Club 
on  a  great  scale,  and  now  the  club  building  lifts  its 
fine  facade  in  Pall  Mall,  a  monument  to  the  enthusiasm 
and  administrative  capacity  of  the  Prince. 

It  is  a  monument  also  to  something  else.  I  once 
asked  Prince  Francis  how  he  had  managed  to  get  his 
club  built  so  quickly,  so  much  more  quickly  than 
is  usual  with  important  structures  in  this  country. 
He  said  : 

"  I  hoped  you  would  ask  me  that.  It  has  been 
built  in  this  short  time  because  I  sent  to  America 
for  American  foremen  and  put  them  in  charge.  The 
credit  is  due  to  them." 

"  Did  they  get  on  well  with  their  English  workmen 
and  the  English  workmen  with  them  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  heard  a  complaint  from  either. 
Moreover,  the  work  has  been  done  not  only  quickly 
but  well  and  solidly;  no  building  more  so." 

It  covers  nearly  the  whole  of  the  site  of  the  old 
War  Office,  and  is,  or  soon  will  be,  the  last  word, 
at  any  rate  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  in  luxury  and 
conveniences  and  variety  in  club  life.  Prince  Francis 
himself  was  in  one  thing  American  ;  he  had  an  open 
mind  and  did  not  reject  a  novelty  because  it  was 
a  novelty  or  had  no  precedent.  What  will  happen 
to  the  club  now  that  he  is  gone  is  a  question.  It  has, 
I  believe,  five  or  six  thousand  members,  and  contains 
two  hundred  bedrooms,  and  almost  everything  you 
can  think  of  except  a  race-track  for  motors. 

He  was  chairman  of  the  Middlesex  Hospital ; 
the  same  hospital  to  which  Sir  Henry  Morris  was 
Consulting  Surgeon.  Of  his  work  as  chairman  I 
hear  the  account  I  should  expect.  He  mastered  the 
whole  business  of  hospital  government,  gave  time 
without  stint  to  his  duties  and  was  a  devoted,  inde- 


i68       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

fatigable,  intelligent  executive.  It  is  the  chronic 
condition  of  all  London  hospitals  supported  by- 
voluntary  contributions  to  be  in  debt.  The  Middlesex 
owed  ^20,000  which  it  had  no  means  of  paying. 
Prince  Francis  set  to  work  and  in  three  months  or  so 
raised  the  whole  amount ;  begged  it  from  the  public. 
Then,  instead  of  resting  ©n  his  laurels,  which  is  not 
what  laurels  are  meant  for,  he  proposed  to  raise 
another  larger  sum  to  put  this  great  hospital  on  a  self- 
supporting  basis.     And  then  death  came. 

Prince  Francis  had  a  generous  side  to  his  energies, 
even  in  little  matters  ;  he  liked  doing  kindnesses  for 
others.  Little  things  or  big,  the  spirit  was  the  same. 
When  Mr.  Bourke  Cockran  was  in  London  last  year 
he  brought  his  automobile  with  him.  He  was  going 
to  the  Continent  ;  and  to  take  an  automobile  with 
you  from  England  to  the  Continent  involves  some 
rather  technical  arrangements  with  the  customs  and 
other  authorities.  Neither  Mr.  Cockran  nor  his 
chauffeur  knew  exactly  what  to  do.  We  went  upstairs 
— this  was  at  the  Ritz  Hotel — to  call  on  an  English 
lady,  a  brilliant  being  who  lives  in  New  York,  and 
there  we  found  Prince  Francis.  When  he  heard  of 
the  automobile  difficulties,  he  said  at  once  : 

"  Why,  that's  in  my  jurisdiction.  That's  what 
the  Royal  Automobile  Club  exists  for.  Give  me  the 
facts  and  I'll  arrange  it  all  for  you." 

Mr.  Bourke  Cockran  was  a  stranger  to  him  but  that 
made  no  difference.  Turning  to  his  hostess,  he  asked 
if  he  might  use  her  telephone,  called  up  the  secretary 
of  the  Automobile  Club,  told  him  what  was  wanted, 
asked  him  to  see  that  the  fermalities  were  attended  to, 
and  ended  with  a  characteristic  sentence  : 

"  Please  understand,  the  details  I  have  given  you 
are  all  you  need.     Do  not  trouble  Mr.  Cockran,  but 


PRINCE   FRANCIS   OF   TECK  169 

arrange  so  that  when  he  arrives  at  Dieppe  he  shall  find 
his  motor  waiting  for  him,  ready  to  start  for  Paris, 
and  his  papers  all  in  order.  The  chauffeur  will  have 
funds  for  all  expenses.  You  quite  understand  ? 
Thank  you.     Good-bye." 

He  dies  at  forty,  but  in  his  forty  years  he  has  lived 
the  full  measure  of  ordinary  lives.  He  departs  amid 
such  expressions  of  grief  and  affection  as  attend  a  man 
to  his  grave,  not  because  of  his  position  or  relations, 
but  because  he  was  a  man. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

LORD   PAUNCEFOTE   AS   ANGLO-AMERICAN 
AMBASSADOR 


T  HOPE  nobody  will  misapprehend  the  meaning 
of  Anglo-American  as  applied  to  a  man  who  was 
British  Ambassador  first,  last,  and  all  the  time.  No 
man  ever  stood  more  stoutly  on  all  occasions  for 
his  country's  interests  and  rights.  But  what  I  mean 
is  that,  in  the  long  run.  Lord  Pauncefote's  rectitude 
and  sense  of  fairness,  of  justice,  of  friendship  as  the 
first  policy  of  the  two  countries,  inured  to  the  benefit 
of  both.  In  that  sense  he  was  Anglo-American. 
Of  that  his  friends  on  both  sides  may  be  proud, 
and  for  that  we  Americans  have  every  reason  to  be 
grateful  to  this  Englishman. 

Lord  Pauncefote  was  a  great  Ambassador,  and  as 
such  my  memories  of  him  are  abundant.  So  are  they 
of  the  man  himself,  and  I  hardly  know  which  of  the 
two  ought  to  have  precedence.  But  the  truth  is  they 
cannot  be  separated,  since  he  could  not  have  accom- 
plished what  he  did  as  Ambassador  had  he  been  any 
other  than  the  Sir  Julian  Pauncefote  who  first  came 
to  Washington  to  represent  his  Sovereign  and  country 
as  Minister  Plenipotentiary.  Moreover,  at  the  end  of 
his  thirteen  years'  service  it  was  hard  to  say  whether 
England  or  the  United  States  was  most  in  his  debt. 

170 


LORD   PAUNCEFOTE  171 

That  could  be  said  of  few  diplomatists,  and  it  is 
perhaps  because  he  was  not  primarily  a  diplomatist 
that  it  can  be  said  of  him. 

It  sounds  like  irony  to  admit  that  when,  in  1889, 
Sir  Julian  Pauncefote  was  appointed  to  be  Her 
Majesty's  Minister  in  Washington  the  appointment 
was  sharply  criticized.  But  it  was  mainly  because 
Sir  Julian  was  not  in  the  direct  line  of  diplomatic 
promotion.  His  training  and  life  work  had  been 
largely  that  of  a  lawyer  and  judge  ;  then  he  had  been 
brought  into  the  Foreign  Office  which  had  not  been 
treated  until  of  late  years  as  a  stepping-stone  to  diplo- 
matic preferment.  The  men  who  were  pushed  aside 
to  make  room  for  him  not  unnaturally  complained. 
But  of  such  complaints  Lord  Salisbury,  then  Prime 
Minister,  took  little  heed.  He  was  in  search  of  a 
man  who  could  do  the  work,  at  that  time  far  more 
anxious  and  difficult  than  now,  which  he  wanted  done. 
Had  there  been  such  a  man  among  the  Ambassadors 
or  Ministers  then  available,  that  man  would  probably 
have  been  sent  ;  but  there  was  no  one.  I  do  not 
think  we  have  ever  done  full  justice  in  America  to 
Lord  Salisbury  in  his  relations  with  the  United  States. 
What  he  most  cared  for  was  to  promote  a  good  under- 
standing between  his  country  and  ours.  He  thought 
Sir  Julian  the  man  best  fitted  for  that  task,  and 
therefore  made  him  Minister.  Never  was  a  happier 
choice ;  never  one  which  more  signally  evinced  Lord 
Salisbury's  judgment  of  men. 

On  the  morrow  of  this  nomination  Lord  Rosebery 
said  to  me  : 

"  Of  course  you  know  Pauncefote  ?  " 

"  No  ;    I  have  never  met  him." 

"  But  you  should  know  him  ;  now  that  he  is  going 
to  Washington  you  must  know  him.     Come  to  lunch 


172       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

to-morrow  and  I  will  ask  Pauncefote,  and  you  two 
can  have  a  talk." 

That  is  one  more  of  the  many  kindnesses  I  owe  to 
Lord  Rosebery.  He,  who  had  been  Foreign  Secretary, 
understood  better  than  most  men  the  value,  or  rather 
the  necessity,  of  personal  acquaintance  with  diplo- 
matists to  whom  a  journalist  has  to  stand  in  some  sort 
of  relation. 

"  Besides,  you  will  have  to  say  something  about 
Pauncefote  in  '  the  States,'  where  I  suppose  he  is 
little  known,  and  it  is  desirable  you  should  meet  him 
for  that  purpose." 

The  morrow  came  and  with  it  Sir  Julian  Pauncefote, 
at  38  Berkeley  Square.  He  entered  the  reception- 
room  next  to  the  lesser  dining-room  with  an  air  I 
thought  uncertain ;  perhaps  only  the  air  of  deference 
which  a  new  Minister  Plenipotentiary  might  naturally 
assume  to  an  ex-Foreign  Secretary  of  renown.  His 
manner  had  about  it  a  certain  formality  also  ;  it 
came  near  being  stiff.  He  knew  he  was  to  meet  a 
journalist,  and  I  dare  say  that  put  him  a  little  on  his 
guard.  To  the  official  mind  an  unknown  journalist 
is  an  object  of  suspicion.  Besides,  he  was  on  trial ; 
he  was  new  to  his  new  position,  and  previous  experience 
gave  him  no  great  confidence. 

All  the  same,  he  was  impressive.  His  fine,  powerful 
head  rose  well  out  of  his  broad  shoulders,  and  the 
whole  figure  had  power  if  not  authority.  He  was 
already  bald  but  that  only  served  to  show  the  full 
outline  of  a  well-balanced  head.  It  was  plain  to  see 
that  inside  it  was  a  brain  which  was  used,  and  had  all 
his  life  been  used,  in  serious  work.  There  was  a  slight 
stoop  ;  the  shoulders  not  quite  square  ;  as  of  one 
long  accustomed  to  bending  over  a  desk.  The  blue 
eyes  had  a  student  look  in  them  ;    the  mouth  lacked 


LORD    PAUNCEFOTE  173 

decision.  I  thought  him  in  that  first  moment  less 
a  man  o£  the  world  than  of  books  and  courts.  He 
looked  at  you,  or  down  on  you,  as  if  from  the  bench 
where  he  had  sat  so  long ;  and  though  a  judge  has  in 
this  country,  if  not  always  with  us,  the  authority  of 
a  ruler  in  his  own  dominions,  that  authority  does  not 
reach  beyond  the  four  walls  within  which  he  is 
supreme. 

You  expect,  first  of  all,  from  a  diplomatist  suavity, 
tenue,  and  a  manner  of  conciliation.  Sir  Julian  had 
none  of  all  that.  He  was  rigid,  self-contained ; 
courteous,  certainly,  and  even  cordial,  yet  with  the 
remoteness  of  a  man  engaged  at  that  moment  rather 
upon  the  solving  of  a  legal  problem  than  upon  adjusting 
a  new  social  relation.  The  stamp  of  diplomacy  most 
marked  was  his  reserve,  yet  even  that  was  not  really  the 
trait  of  a  trained  diplomatist.  A  trained  diplomatist 
is  reserved  while  appearing  open  ;  one  who  has  the 
air  of  telling  you  everything  and  yet  tells  you  nothing  ; 
who  seems  to  go  with  you  all  the  way,  yet  advances 
never  an  inch  beyond  the  line  he  has  drawn  for  himself. 
I  take  it  few  men  have  this  finish  of  deportment 
save  those  who  have  spent  their  lives  in  acquiring 
it  by  the  daily  and  yearly  practice  of  those  arts  which 
are  to  be  learned  only  in  the  actual  exercise  of  diplo- 
matic functions.  A  man  exceptionally  gifted  may 
attain  to  that  distinction  without  experience,  but  such 
men  are  rare,  and  Sir  Julian  certainly  was  not  one  of 
them. 

Nor  can  the  lack  of  early  training,  or  of  the  qualities 
which  sometimes  are  a  gift  of  nature  at  birth,  often 
be  supplied  later  in  life.  What  Sir  Julian  was,  or 
what  he  seemed  to  me,  on  this  first  acquaintance, 
he  remained  to  the  end.  He  was  never  a  diplomatist 
in  the  drawing-room.     He  never  acquired  the  small 


174      ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

graces  and  social  dexterity  of  a  man  who  begins  as 
attache  and  climbs  through  long  years  to  the  top  of 
his  profession. 

But  he  became  the  greatest  Ambassador  England 
ever  sent  to  the  United  States.  He  was  so  great  that 
it  matters  little  whether  he  grafted  upon  the  parent 
stock  of  sterling  character  and  qualities  the  flower 
and  foliage-bearing  scions  that  ornament  the  trunk 
in  which  flows  the  sap  that  vitalizes  the  tree.  I  will 
give  you  later  one  brilliant  example  of  his  unfitness 
to  contend  with  colleagues  who  practised,  upon  him 
or  against  him,  the  artifices  by  which  a  diplomatic 
expert  thinks  it  permissible  to  entrap  an  opponent. 

So  new  was  Sir  Julian  to  his  new  post  that  during 
all  this  lunch  he  felt  his  way.  Every  sentence  had  the 
air  of  having  been  considered.  Not  one  was  allowed 
to  pass  his  lips  except  as  a  second  thought.  Lord 
Rosebery  noticed  this  and  tried  to  give  a  freer  course 
to  the  talk,  but  could  not.  I  do  not  think  I  was  the 
obstacle,  for  later,  as  we  walked  away  together.  Sir 
Julian  poured  out  his  soul.  His  delight  in  the  life  now 
opening  before  him  flowed  freely  into  words.  His 
talk  became  spontaneous  and  his  mood  confiding. 
I  was  so  much  encouraged  by  this  that  presently 
I  told  him  I  thought  it  might  be  for  the  interest  of 
his  mission  if,  before  he  landed  in  New  York,  the 
Americans  were  allowed  to  learn  more  about  him 
than  they  yet  had.  Without  knowing  it  I  had  struck 
the  right  note.  It  was  the  interest  of  his  mission 
and  not  his  own  which  he  cared  for.     He  said  : 

"  Yes,  your  people  cannot  know  much  about  me  ; 
nor  can  even  the  President  or  your  Secretary  of  State, 
with  whom  I  am  to  do  business.  If  you  think  an  ac- 
count of  my  oflicial  life  would  help,  I  will  give  you 
the  material,  to  make  such  use  of  as  you  think  best." 


LORD   PAUNCEFOTE  175 

I  am  quite  certain  no  such  idea  as  this  had  occurred 
to  him  before,  and  he  certainly  had  no  conception 
of  what  he  might  be  called  upon  to  face  in  the  way 
of  publicity  on  his  arrival  in  America.  I  can  imagine 
that  journalism,  as  such,  was  not  what  most  appealed 
to  him.  But  he  saw  quickly  that  it  might  have  uses, 
and  was  perhaps  readier  to  avail  himself  of  them  than 
if  he  had  served  a  long  apprenticeship  to  diplomacy 
in  European  capitals.  I  warned  him  I  should  send 
an  appreciation  as  well  as  the  facts.  In  short,  I  think 
he  saw  that  an  introduction  to  the  American  people 
through  The  New  Tork  tribune  would  be  as  likely  as 
anything  else  to  put  him  on  good  terms  with  them 
and  with  the  official  world  in  Washington.  He  gave 
me  the  material,  I  wrote  the  letter,  and  The  Tribune 
published  it. 

As  I  did  not  leave  London  till  1895,  I  saw  little  of 
the  new  Minister  before  that  date.  But  when  I  went 
to  New  York  for  The  Times  I  saw  much,  in  the  way  of 
duty  and  otherwise.  He  had  then  been  six  years 
Minister  and,  after  1893,  Ambassador.  Yet  his  natural 
simplicity  and  kindness  of  heart  had  survived  this 
experience,  and  when  he  heard  I  was  going  to  Washing- 
ton on  a  visit  he  asked  me  to  stay  at  the  Embassy. 
I  should  have  liked  nothing  better  than  to  be  his 
guest,  but  I  thought  it  would  not  do  ;  either  for  him 
or  for  me.  An  Ambassador  cannot  afford  to  keep  a 
tame  correspondent  nor  can  a  correspondent  afford  to 
be  tamed,  or  to  be  under  any  but  inevitable  obligations 
to  anybody.  The  inevitable  are  more  than  enough. 
I  explained  to  him  that  as  his  guest  I  should  put  myself 
under  an  obligation,  and  that  as  The  Times  representa- 
tive I  must  be,  first  of  all,  independent. 

"  I  may  have  to  criticize  you  and  I  cannot  do  that 
from  under  your  roof." 


176       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

He  thought  I  was  very  still  about  it,  but  assented. 
There  grew  up  between  us,  none  the  less,  a  friendship 
which  lasted,  unbroken  and  uncheckered,  to  the  day 
o£  his  death;  and  lasts  still.  During  the  Venezuela 
negotiations  I  came  very  near  to  offending  him — 
perhaps  did  offend  him,  since  some  of  these  negotia- 
tions were  unofficial,  and  were  transacted  outside  of 
the  Embassy  and,  for  a  time,  without  the  knowledge 
of  the  Ambassador.  But  his  was  too  large  a  nature 
to  quarrel  or  take  umbrage  on  a  point  of  etiquette. 
He  never  made  any  other  than  an  indirect  allusion 
to  my  relations  with  Mr.  Olney,  nor  do  I  suppose 
that  he  ever  knew  the  whole  truth.  There  was  no 
reason  why  he  should,  nor  do  I  believe  for  a  moment 
it  would  have  troubled  the  friendship  between  us  if 
he  had.  Whatever  he  knew,  that  friendship  went  on 
strengthening.  I  was  indebted  to  it  and  to  him  in 
many  ways.  I  cannot  acknowledge  that  too  freely. 
Then  there  came  an  hour  when,  thanks  to  his  confidence 
and  to  my  connection  with  The  'Times,  I  was  able  to 
repay  my  debt  in  part,  and  to  do  him  a  service.  Debt 
and  repayment  are,  at  best,  but  conventional  terms, 
and  not  quite  apt.  We  were  friends,  that  is  enough  ; 
that  covers  the  obligations  on  both  sides,  and  I  shall 
speak  of  them  as  acts  of  friendship  ;  as  acts  arising 
partly  from  mutual  regard,  but,  on  Lord  Paunce- 
fote's  side,  first  and  always  from  public  duty. 

n 

In  these  days  when  Arbitration,  thanks  to  the  President 
first  and  then  to  Sir  Edward  Grey  and  Mr.  Balfour,  is 
passing  out  of  the  hypothetical  into  the  practical  stage, 
it  becomes  us  to  keep  in  mind  what  we  owe  to  those 
who  led  the  way.   The  first  treaty  of  general  arbitration 


LORD   PAUNCEFOTE  177 

between  England  and  the  United  States  was  the  work 
of  Lord  Pauncefote  and  Mr.  Olney.  They  had  legal 
minds,  learned  and  full,  from  which  the  spirit  of  con- 
tention was  absent. 

They  worked  together  in  harmony.  No  two  men 
were  more  competent  to  frame  such  an  agreement. 
If  it  was  not  an  agreement  for  unlimited  arbitration, 
it  went  as  far  as  the  public  opinion  of  that  day  would 
follow  ;  and  further.  No  treaty  can  be  made  to-day 
without  reference  to  this.  It  was  built  on  recognized 
principles  of  international  jurisprudence  :  a  science 
which  both  Lord  Pauncefote  and  Mr.  Olney  had 
mastered  ;  at  different  dates.  The  Senate  wrecked  it 
— a  body  of  legislators  ever  more  jealous  of  its  usurped 
prerogative  than  careful  of  those  international  interests 
with  which  America  is  more  than  ever  bound  up.  But 
the  names  of  these  two  men  are  to  be  honoured  and 
their  services  gratefully  recognized  whenever  the  word 
Arbitration  is  pronounced. 

From  the  final  blow  struck  by  the  Senate,  a  blow 
below  the  belt.  Lord  Pauncefote  never  recovered.  It 
shattered  his  most  cherished  ideals.  It  shortened  his 
life.  But  the  treacherous  hostility  of  the  Senate  can- 
not blunt  the  memory  of  the  two  nations  of  whom  he 
was  the  benefactor.  It  remains  to  us  to  hope  that 
the  Senate  of  to-day  may  be  inspired  by  better  pur- 
poses and  abandon  once  and  for  all  its  role  of  obstruc- 
tion and  destruction  and  earn  a  better  name  than  that 
of  the  graveyard  of  treaties.  The  sins  of  the  past 
cannot  be  forgotten.  Rightly  remembered  and  aptly 
recalled,  they  may  become  the  stepping-stones  to  good 
deeds  in  the  future.  But  the  pressure  of  an  over- 
whelming, an  overmastering,  public  opinion  is  still 
needed.  Senators  have  defied  it  in  the  past.  They 
cannot  withstand  it  for  ever.     Defiance  is  no  mark  of 


lyS       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

statesmanship.  The  Senate  is  an  entrenched  camp, 
but  the  people  of  the  United  States  are  an  irresistible 
army. 

Lord  Pauncefote,  I  must  add,  was  to  a  certain 
extent  personally  unpopular  with  Senators.  Often  as 
he  had  been  urged  to  make  himself  persona  grata  to 
those  mighty  men,  often  as  he  had  been  assured  that 
it  was  even  a  diplomatic  necessity,  he  would  do  nothing 
to  win  favour  with  a  body  to  whom  he  stood,  as  he 
thought,  in  no  diplomatic  relation.  He  governed  his 
conduct  to  Senators,  as  he  governed  his  conduct  to 
all  men,  by  rules  of  uniform  courtesy  and  good  will. 
Tribute  or  homage  he  would  pay  neither  to  them  nor 
to  others.  He  was  the  representative  of  his  Sovereign, 
and  sovereigns  do  not  crook  the  bended  knee  to  those 
about  them.  Senators  thought  his  simplicity  and 
friendly  independence  a  rebuke  to  their  pretensions, 
and  resented  it.  I  do  not  say  that  such  motives 
influenced  Senatorial  votes  on  great  questions  of 
public  policy.  But  they  created  an  atmosphere  in 
that  august  chamber  the  breathing  of  which  did  not 
make  for  the  easy  ratification  of  treaties  which  bore 
Lord  Pauncefote's  signature. 

This  first  treaty  of  arbitration  is  Lord  Pauncefote's 
legacy  to  us.  We  owe  it  to  his  memory  and  to  Mr. 
Olney,  happily  still  living,  to  enforce  their  earlier 
counsels  of  perfection  ;  to  accept  their  work  as  an 
inspiration.  For  without  the  efforts  of  these  men  we 
should  not  be  where  we  are  to-day.  They  still  speak 
to  us  by  the  mouths  of  the  President  and  of  his  English 
colleagues  in  their  great  mission  of  peace  and  in  their 
efforts  for  the  peaceful  settlement  of  disputes  between 
the  two  great  nations  they  represent. 

The  Arbitration  treaty  was  a  crisis  in  Lord  Paunce- 
fote's life  as  Ambassador.     The  second  crisis  was  of  a 


LORD   PAUNCEFOTE  179 

very  different  order,  provoked  by  his  rivals,  of  whom 
three  were  conspicuous  agents  in  its  first  stage.  They 
fashioned  the  material.  They  sent  it  to  their  govern- 
ments, and  one  at  least  of  those  governments  stored  it 
away  for  future  use  ;  a  deposit  of  dynamite.  And  at 
the  moment  when  it  was  thought  most  likely  to  de- 
stroy Lord  Pauncefote's  influence  and  to  make  trouble 
between  England  and  the  United  States,  a  great 
Potentate  touched  it  off ;  an  Emperor-journalist,  with 
a  journalist's  love  of  the  sensational ;  the  Hearst  of 
Berlin. 

For  to  disturb  the  friendship  between  Great  Britain 
and  the  United  States  was  then,  and  has  since  been, 
and  still  is,  one  cardinal  point  of  the  Kaiser's  policy. 
His  Imperial  Majesty  may  suppose  that  his  successive 
and  continuing  attempts  to  this  end  are  not  under- 
stood in  America.  But  they  are  understood.  Ask  any 
American  naval  officer  against  whom  or  what  America 
is  building  battleships,  and  listen  to  his  answer.  If 
you  asked  Mr.  Roosevelt  his  answer  might  be,  for 
reasons  of  State,  less  categorical  yet  still  illuminating. 

The  story  I  shall  tell  is  not  new,  for  it  goes  back 
in  its  beginning  to  1898,  and  in  its  climax  to  1902, 
yet  the  facts  are  not,  I  imagine,  fresh  in  the  public 
memory,  nor  so  well  known  in  England  and  America 
as  abroad,  and  I  retell  it  briefly. 

It  is  no  secret  that  when  we  went  to  war  with 
Spain  in  1898  the  sympathies  of  Continental  Europe 
were  on  the  side  of  Spain  and  not  of  the  United  States. 
It  is  no  secret  that  some  of  the  skilled  diplomatists  who 
represented  those  powers  in  Washington  conceived  a 
scheme  whereby  effect  might  be  given  to  those 
sympathies.  The  leading  mind  among  them — whether 
the  leading  spirit  I  cannot  say,  though  I  am  inclined 
to  think  not — was  the  French  Ambassador,  M.  Jules 


i8o       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Cambon,  brother  to  M.  Paul  Cambon,  French  Am- 
bassador to  Great  Britain  then  and  now.  Among 
them,  at  any  rate,  they  agreed  that  each  should  send 
to  his  own  Government  a  proposal  for  a  remonstrance 
to  be  addressed  by  all  their  Governments  to  the  United 
States  against  the  war.  They  were  five  in  all.  The 
five  met  by  themselves  and  agreed  to  ask  the  British 
Ambassador  to  join  them  ;  and  not  only  to  join  them 
but  to  draft  the  dispatch  he  and  the  five  were  to  send 
to  their  Governments  separately. 

It  was  a  very  subtle  piece  of  diplomacy.  They  did 
not  disclose  to  Lord  Pauncefote  their  real  object. 
They  knew  him  as  a  lover  of  peace  and  they  thought 
it  possible  to  induce  him,  as  a  lover  of  peace,  to  make 
an  appeal  to  the  American  Government  in  the  name 
of  peace.  This  appeal  they  meant  to  turn  to  their 
own  ends.  They  well  knew  that  Lord  Pauncefote 
would  wittingly  be  party  to  no  plot  hostile  to  us. 
But  they  thought  he  could  be  used  without  his  know- 
ledge. 

Had  Lord  Pauncefote  been  one  of  the  diplomatic 
brotherhood,  trained  all  his  life  in  the  arts  of  Con- 
tinental diplomacy,  no  such  scheme  would  have  been 
hatched,  still  less  proposed  to  him.  But  he  was  a  man 
who  used,  as  Burke  used,  "  no  arts  but  manly  arts  "  ; 
nor  was  it  in  his  nature  to  suspect  others  of  conduct 
less  loyal  than  his  own.  Assuming  that  his  colleagues 
came  to  him  in  good  faith,  in  good  faith  he  drafted 
the  dispatch  they  sought  from  him.  It  was  upon  their 
initiative  and  request  that  he  put  upon  paper  his 
thoughts  on  the  situation  and  his  suggestions  for  a 
friendly  proposal  to  the  United  States  in  the  interests 
both  of  the  United  States  and  of  peace.  There  was 
not  a  word  at  which  an  American  could  take  offence. 

But  this  did  not  suit  the  purpose  of  the  Five  who 


.      LORD    PAUNCEFOTE  i8i 

on  that  eventful  morning  walked  across  Connecticut 
Avenue  in  a  body  from  the  Austrian  to  the  British 
embassy.  When  Lord  Pauncefote  had  read  his  paper 
a  silence  fell  upon  the  company.  Then  one  after 
another  criticized  and  proposed  alterations.  Finally, 
M.  Cambon  offered  to  take  it  and  redraft  it  in  accord- 
ance with  the  general  opinion  of  the  Five.  He  did 
take  it  ;  left  the  library  where  they  were  assembled, 
went  into  the  chancery  of  the  embassy,  was  gone  half 
an  hour,  and  returned  with  the  new  draft  which  he 
read  aloud.  He  had  done  his  work  with  consummate 
craft  ;  a  craft  equal  in  its  way  to  Bismarck's  with  the 
Ems  dispatch.  With  the  exception  of  a  single  phrase, 
the  paper  was  still,  so  far  as  words  went,  void  of 
offence  to  the  general  mind.  But  to  the  diplomatic 
mind  the  new  draft  now  read  not  as  an  appeal  but  a 
remonstrance,  and  a  remonstrance  such  as  no  govern- 
ment addresses  to  another  unless  prepared  to  follow  it 
up  in  one  way  or  another.  But  the  object  of  it  was 
cunningly  concealed  in  plausible  phrases,  and  the 
transformation,  unhappily,  was  not  at  once  evident  to 
Lord  Pauncefote,  and  the  offensive  phrase  passed 
equally  unperceived. 

There  was  a  further  discussion  ;  the  sitting  lasted 
long ;  some  verbal  amendments  were  made,  of  no 
significance,  and  in  the  end  the  British  Ambassador 
accepted  and  signed  and  sent  to  the  Foreign  Oihce  in 
London,  as  his  own,  M.  Cambon's  dispatch.  But  the 
Foreign  Office,  with  Lord  Sanderson  then  its  per- 
manent head  and  always  with  a  staff  of  men  versed 
in  the  rules  of  diplomacy,  said  latet  a?iguis  ifi  herba, 
and  coldly  made  answer  that  Her  Majesty's  Govern- 
ment did  not  think  it  desirable  to  forward  the  dispatch 
to  the  American  Government.  And  there,  for  the 
time,  the  matter  dropped.    The  conspiracy  had  failed. 


i82       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Four  years  later  Washington  was  startled  by  a  Press 
dispatch  from  Berlin,  obviously  official  or  semi-official, 
accusing  Lord  Pauncefote  of  having  initiated  and 
sought  to  carry  through  a  measure  of  European  inter- 
vention unfriendly  to  the  United  States  and  in  aid 
of  Spain.  This  charge,  we  were  told,  rested  upon  the 
contemporary  dispatches  of  the  German  Ambassador, 
Baron  HoUeben,  who  had  made  a  full  statement  of  the 
facts  to  his  Government.  But  the  German  Emperor, 
out  of  his  infinite  kindness  and  good  will  to  America, 
had  himself  intervened  to  frustrate  that  wicked  British 
plot.  He  had  expressed  upon  the  margin  of  the  pro- 
posed remonstrance  his  Imperial  disapproval  and  his 
Imperial  command  that  no  such  remonstrance  should 
be  sent.  The  dullest  could  not  but  infer  that  Germany 
and  not  England  was  the  true  friend  of  the  United 
States. 

Why  Germany  had  waited  four  years  to  declare  its 
friendship,  and  why  the  declaration  was  made  at  a 
critical  moment  in  the  relations  of  the  three  Powers, 
the  Emperor  omitted  to  explain.  But  a  high  per- 
sonage in  Washington  said  : 

"  I  do  not  believe  the  Imperial  ink  on  the  margin 
of  HoUeben's  four-year-old  dispatch  was  dry  when 
the  press  telegram  was  sent  from  Berlin." 


Ill 

This  blast  from  the  Imperial  trumpet  at  Berlin 
rang  through  the  land.  It  was  a  declaration  of  the 
utmost  gravity,  and  had  to  be  met  at  once  if  the 
mischief  it  meant  were  to  be  prevented.  I  went  to 
Lord  Pauncefote  early  that  morning  and  found  him 
in  no  little  anxiety.    He  said  at  once  : 


LORD   PAUNCEFOTE  183 

"  I  know  why  you  have  come  but  I  can  tell  you 
nothing." 

I  asked  Lord  Pauncefote  to  consider  the  nature  of 
the  accusation  against  him  ;  the  source  of  it ;  the 
world-wide  publicity  given  to  it ;  and  the  effect  of  it, 
both  here  and  at  home,  on  his  position  as  Ambassador. 

"  Yes,  I  have  thought  of  all  that,  but  it  is  not  con- 
sistent with  my  position  as  Ambassador  to  be  drawn 
into  a  personal  controversy.  I  shall  make  no  reply. 
Better  that  I  should  suifer  than  that  the  interests  of 
my  Government  and  the  friendship  of  the  two 
countries  should  suffer." 

Then  I  saw  what  I  ought  to  have  understood  at 
first,  that  Lord  Pauncefote  not  only  put  aside  his  own 
welfare  and  reputation,  but  that  his  refusal  to  explain 
sprang  from  his  belief  that  any  explanation,  since  it 
must  be  controversial,  would  be  to  the  detriment  of 
the  great  public  interests  he  had  at  heart.  You  could 
read  it  in  his  face ;  care-laden,  anxious,  distressed.  He 
looked  older  than  yesterday  ;  bent,  half -broken.  The 
shot  fired  from  Berlin  had  reached  him  ;  he  was  a 
stricken  man.  In  his  thought  for  his  country  he  was 
doing  injustice  to  himself.  I  saw  it  was  useless  to  talk 
to  him  of  the  wrong  and  outrage  he  was  asked  to 
endure.  There  was  but  one  appeal  to  make,  and  I 
made  it  : 

"  Lord  Pauncefote,  I  will  do  as  you  are  doing.  I 
will  leave  you  and  your  character  and  honour — for 
both  are  assailed — out  of  the  question.  What  I  ask 
you  is  from  regard  to  your  Government,  which  is 
assailed  through  you,  and  from  regard  to  the  two 
peoples  whom  you  have  done  so  much  to  bring  to- 
gether, to  let  the  truth  be  known." 

He  thought,  and  presently  said  : 

"  No,  I  do  not  sec  it  as  you  do,  and  I  can  say  nothing 


1 84       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

to  you  as  Times  correspondent.  But  you  arc  my 
friend  and  I  will  tell  you  the  facts  in  confidence." 

So  he  began  the  story  given  in  my  last  chapter,  of 
which  I  knew  already  the  substance.  But  as  he  went 
on  I  saw  that  if  all  this  was  in  confidence  I  could  no 
longer  use  as  they  ought  to  be  used  the  facts  I  had 
learned  at  the  time  from  other  sources,  and  I  inter- 
rupted his  narrative  : 

"  Lord  Pauncefote,  this  is  far  too  serious  to  be 
handled  as  a  private  matter  between  you  and  me.  I 
can  listen  to  no  more  in  confidence.  Either  our  talk 
m-ust  end  here  or  you  must  leave  it  to  my  discretion 
to  deal  with  the  whole  as  I  think  right." 

Again  he  hesitated  and  I  rose  to  go,  but  finally  he 
said  : 

"  Well,  you  may  be  a  better  judge  than  I  of  the 
public  interests  at  stake.  If  you  will  consider  those 
alone  you  may  publish  so  much  as  you  judge  needful." 

Then  he  went  over  the  whole  business.  What  I 
have  said  was  based  partly  on  Lord  Pauncefote's  state- 
ment, partly  on  other  testimony.  What  I  am  concerned 
to  make  clear  now  is  the  absolute  loyalty  and  dis- 
interestedness of  the  Ambassador  at  whom  these 
calumnies  had  been  flung.  When  he  had  finished  I 
asked  a  few  questions,  which  he  answered.  Then 
I  said  : 

"  It  is  quite  understood  I  am  to  use  all  this  as  I 
think  proper.  I  only  wish  to  say  that  I  hope  it  may 
be  possible  to  state  all  the  essential  facts  in  The  Times 
without  explaining  that  any  of  them  came  from  you." 

On  that  we  parted  and  I  went  to  the  President. 
His  first  words  were  the  same  as  Lord  Pauncefote's  : 

"  I  know  why  you  have  come." 

But  he  went  on  in  a  very  different  tone  : 

"  I   can   answer  your   question   before  it   is   asked. 


LORD    PAUNCEFOTE  185 

Not  only  do  I  not  believe  this  Berlin  story,  but  I 
know  it  is  false.  I  know  Lord  Pauncefote  to  be  in- 
capable of  an  act  unfriendly  to  this  country.  Since 
he  has  been  Ambassador  he  has  striven  with  all  his 
heart  to  promote  good  will  between  England  and  us. 
If  he  had  said  and  done  what  Holleben  accuses  him  of, 
it  would  have  been  disloyal  to  himself  and  treacherous 
to  us.  He  is  incapable  of  that.  He  is  incapable  of 
anything  but  true  and  honourable  conduct." 
"  May  I  say  in  7he  Times  that  you  said  that  ?  " 
The  President's  answer  was  characteristic. 
"  You  may  say  that  I  said  it,  but  not  to  you." 
I  obeyed  at  the  time.  But  Mr.  Roosevelt  is  no 
longer  President  and  I  am  no  longer  Times  correspon- 
dent ;  it  is  a  case  of  cessante  ratione,  cessat  lex.  We 
shall  never  again  stand  to  each  other  in  the  relation 
in  which  we  then  stood.  The  reason  for  his  caution 
was  evident.  As  it  no  longer  exists,  I  hope  he  will 
hold  me  absolved  from  a  promise  which  I  kept  as  he 
meant  it  to  be  kept  ;  while  there  was  any  necessity 
for  keeping  it.  The  jealousies  of  those  days  are,  I 
trust,  extinct. 

I  cabled  the  full  story  to  The  Times  in  which  it 
appeared  next  morning.  It  was  a  statement  which,  on 
the  face  of  it,  was  based  upon  knowledge  and  upon 
producible  evidence.  That,  and  its  appearance  in 
The  Tivies,  killed  the  Berlin  fiction  dead.  There  was 
a  sort  of  half-apologetic  telegram  from  Berlin  on  the 
day  following,  but  that  particular  attempt  to  make  a 
scapegoat  of  Lord  Pauncefote  and  to  embroil  England 
and  the  United  States  was  abandoned.  I  think  I  never 
did  a  more  useful  piece  of  work.  The  Emperor  showed 
his  chagrin  by  recalling  his  own  Ambassador.  Holleben 
deserved  what  he  got,  but  he  was  not  the  one  most  to 
blame. 


1 86       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

During  the  few  months  of  life  which  remained  to 
him,  Lord  Pauncefote  was  failing  fast  but  did  his 
work  as  before.  The  attachment  to  him  in  Washington 
was  such  as  no  other  Ambassador  had  ever  called  forth. 
For  years  the  British  Embassy  had  never  been  spoken 
of  as  the  British  Embassy.  It  was  always  "  The 
Embassy."  Holleben  was  furious  at  the  distinction, 
and  perhaps  other  Ambassadors,  the  Russian  most  of 
all,  were  vexed.  But  Washington  cared  naught  for 
their  anger,  and  when  Count  Cassini,  having  been  re- 
called from  Washington  and  sent  to  Madrid,  thought 
fit  to  say  he  had  been  "  promoted  "  to  Madrid,  Wash- 
ington was  only  amused.  The  supremacy  of  "  The 
Embassy  "  as  a  diplomatic  and  social  centre  remained 
untouched.  Lord  Pauncefote  was  the  doye^i  of  the 
diplomatic  corps  ;  thanks  partly  to  the  pains  taken  by 
Lord  Rosebery,  Foreign  Minister  at  the  time,  that 
his  credentials  as  Ambassador  should  reach  him  before 
any  of  his  colleagues  could  present  theirs.  He  was 
the  first  Ambassador  who  ever  had  audience  of  a 
President  of  the  United  States.  It  was  well  that  this 
primacy  should  have  been  his  ;  and  well  that  the 
position  had  Lord  Pauncefote  to  maintain  it.  The 
social  atmosphere  of  the  Embassy  was  always  delight- 
ful ;  a  condition  due  not  to  the  Ambassador  only, 
whose  wife  and  family  had  a  charm  and  popularity 
of  their  own.  There  has  not  been  since,  and  it  is 
not  likely  there  will  ever  be,  another  Lord  Pauncefote. 
It  is  still  less  likely  that  another  Ambassador  will  have 
the  opportunity  of  equalling  his  services  to  both 
nations,  since  all  the  great  controversies  then  open  are 
now  closed.    And  Arbitration  lights  up  the  horizon. 

The  honours  paid  him  on  his  death  were  without 
example.  The  President,  who  calls  on  nobody,  flung 
etiquette  to  the  winds  and  called  in  person  on  Lady 


LORD   PAUNCEFOTE  187 

Pauncefote  to  offer  his  condolences  and  his  tribute  to 
the  dead.  The  President  personally  gave  orders  that 
the  flags  on  every  public  building  in  Washington  should 
be  half-masted.  He  personally  ordered  the  State 
funeral,  an  act  which  impressed  England  and  all 
Europe  beyond  all  others,  except  perhaps  when,  a 
little  later,  an  American  battleship,  again  by  the 
President's  orders,  bore  the  body  of  this  British  Am- 
bassador home  to  Great  Britain.  The  President,  again 
in  disregard  of  a  hitherto  unbroken  rule  of  etiquette, 
was  himself  present  at  the  funeral  service  in  St.  John's 
Church.  The  orders  to  his  Secretary  of  War  for  the 
parade  of  fifteen  hundred  American  troops  in  honour 
of  this  British  subject  were  the  President's  orders. 
The  fifteen  hundred  lined  Connecticut  avenue  from 
the  Embassy  to  the  Church. 

All  Washington  was  in  mourning  :  in  mourning  for 
a  great  Ambassador  and  for  a  friend.  The  streets  were 
thronged  ;  the  people  in  black.  If  he  had  been  an 
American  no  deeper  reverence  could  have  been  paid 
him,  nor  would  the  grief  have  been  more  genuine.  The 
solemn  service  in  the  church  ended,  as  if  for  a  soldier, 
with  bugle  notes  ;  "  taps  "  ;  the  camp  summons  to 
sleep  ;  now  to  a  lasting  sleep.  When  the  coffin  was 
borne  out,  the  President,  his  ministers  and  other 
great  officers  of  state,  judges,  generals,  admirals,  and 
the  foremost  citizens  of  the  capital,  waited  with  heads 
uncovered.  The  troops  stood  to  arms,  then  swung 
into  column  and  moved  on  as  the  Ambassador's  escort 
on  his  journey.  And  so,  to  martial  music  and  the 
tread  of  armed  men,  the  homage  of  War  to  Peace,  this 
great  messenger  and  instrument  of  peace  departed 
from  among  us. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE    PRESENT   AMERICAN   AMBASSADOR, 
MR.   WHITELAW    REID 

T\/TR.  WHITELAW  REID  has  now  been  seven 
years  American  Ambassador  in  London  ;  a  tenure 
long  enough  to  create  a  pleasing  impression  of  solidity 
in  our  diplomatic  service.  The  impression,  unhappily, 
is  an  illusion.  Mr.  Reid's  length  of  service  is  due, 
not  to  any  rule  or  custom  of  the  State  Department 
in  Washington,  but  to  personal  qualities  and  special 
circumstances  and  previous  experience.  He  had 
been  a  successful  Minister  to  France  from  1889  to 
1892.  Before  that  he  had  twice  declined  the  mission 
to  Germany.  He  was  Special  Ambassador  at  the 
second  Jubilee  of  Queen  Victoria  in  1897,  and  again 
at  the  Coronation  of  King  Edward  in  1902.  He  had 
been  the  leading  member  of  the  Peace  Commission 
of  1898  at  Paris  which  framed  the  Treaty  of  Peace 
with  Spain  and,  under  his  inspiration,  induced 
President  McKinley  to  agree  to  the  acquisition  of 
the  Philippines.  When  he  came  to  London  as  Am- 
bassador of  the  United  States,  Mr.  Roosevelt  was 
President,  and  it  was  Mr.  Roosevelt's  habit  to  speak, 
as  a  Sovereign  might  speak,  of  "  my  "  Ambassadors. 
But  when  Mr.  Roosevelt  ceased  to  be  President  in 
1909,  Mr.  Reid  remained  Ambassador  under  President 
Taft  and  Ambassador  he  still  is  in  191 2,  not  of  Mr. 
Roosevelt  or  Mr.  Taft,  but  of  the  United  States  of 
America. 

188 


MR.   WHITELAW   REID  189 

As  the  United  States  Government  have  not  yet 
thought  it  worth  while  to  provide  their  Ambassadors 
with  Embassies,  Mr.  Reid  took  Dorchester  House, 
and  there  he  and  Mrs.  Reid  have  ever  since  lived 
and  entertained  with  a  splendour  for  which  there 
is  no  precedent.  I  refer  to  it  for  the  sake  of  pointing 
out  one  result  of  Jeilersonian  simplicity  and  economy 
in  the  pay  of  great  public  servants.  The  result  of  this 
penurious  policy,  long  out  of  date,  is  that  only  rich 
men  can  afford  to  accept  the  higher  diplomatic 
posts,  and  to  maintain  them  as  in  Europe  they  ought 
to  be  maintained.  Nor  is  the  present  Ambassador 
the  only  proof.  His  two  immediate  predecessors,  Mr. 
Choate  and  Mr.  Hay,  serve  also  as  illustrations. 
In  all  three  cases  the  Embassy  has  been  supported 
with  dignity  by  private  fortunes. 

Mr.  Reid's  history  before  he  came  to  London  had 
as  many  sides  to  it  as  that  of  most  successful  Americans ; 
perhaps  more.  Born  in  Xenia,  a  little  town  of  the 
State  of  Ohio,  seventy-four  years  ago,  he  graduated  at 
the  Miami  University  in  1856,  and  straightway  began 
active  life  as  a  journalist  ;  plunging  almost  at  once 
into  politics  as  a  legislator.  Then  came  the  Civil  War 
and  brilliant  service  as  war  correspondent  and  as 
aide-de-camp  to  General  Thomas  and  General  Rose- 
crans  ;  then  journalism  in  Washington,  followed  by  a 
costly  experiment  as  cotton-planter  in  Louisiana.  But 
the  decisive  step  of  his  life  was  taken  in  1868  when 
Mr.  Horace  Greeley,  then  the  greatest  editorial  force 
in  the  United  States,  asked  him  to  enter  the  "New  York 
Tribune  office.  He  became  managing  editor  in  1869, 
editor  and  chief  propietor  from  1872  to  1905.  It 
was  a  crisis  in  the  history  of  that  paper,  and  a  crisis 
which  might  have  proved  fatal  but  for  the  business 
gifts  and  courage  of  Mr.  Reid,  who  reorganized  the 


I90       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

concern  and  brought  it  prosperity  by  salutary  methods 
which  shareholders  in  want  of  dividends  during  these 
lean  years  thought  drastic,  as  they  were.  He  had  a 
resourceful  mind  which  shrank  from  no  experiment. 
The  Tribune  building  was  the  first  of  the  structures 
which  took  a  leap  skyward  :  parent  of  the  hundreds  of 
"  sky-scrapers  "  now  to  be  seen  in  New  York.  He 
was  the  first  to  put  to  a  practical  and  lucrative  use  the 
linotype  and  other  machines  for  cheapening  and  ex- 
pediting printing.  He  rearranged  the  editorial  scheme 
of  the  Tribune,  and  it  was  in  his  reign  that  the  great 
successes  in  1870  and  1871,  during  the  Franco- 
German  war,  were  achieved. 

One  other  crisis  in  Mr.  Reid's  life,  a  crisis  fruitful 
of  good  fortune,  was  his  marriage  in  1881  to  Elizabeth, 
only  daughter  of  the  late  Mr.  D.  O.  Mills,  known  to 
all  Americans  as  a  man  who  had  won  a  great  name  and 
amassed  great  riches  by  wise  and  gentle  means.  The 
paths  strewn  with  ruined  rivals  were  never  his.  This 
auspicious  union  proved,  among  other  things,  that 
even  marriage  with  a  sound  financial  basis  on  both 
sides  may  be  made  in  Heaven.  London  knows  Mrs. 
Reid  as  a  hostess  with  a  rare  gift  of  organizing  the 
social  successes  which  are  almost  a  condition  of  an 
all-embracing  diplomacy.  Her  friends  know  her  as  a 
woman  with  gifts  still  more  rare  ;  with  endowments  of 
patient  sagacity  and  of  skill  in  the  conduct  of  life ;  with 
an  influence  the  more  potent  because  never  ostenta- 
tious ;  with  an  organizing  power  of  which  her  hos- 
pitalities and  her  far-reaching  charities  are  alike 
examples  ;  with  a  trained  judgment  in  great  affairs  ; 
with  the  final  charm  of  simplicity  and  generous 
devotion  to  others. 

In  the  midst  of  all  his  activities  in  journalism  and 
politics,  Mr.  Reid  wrote  books  and  delivered  addresses 


MR.    WHITELAW    REID  191 

and,  first  as  member  of  the  Board  of  Regents  of  New 
York  State,  then  as  Vice-Chancellor,  and  finally  as 
Chancellor,  became  an  authority  in  Education.  Diplo- 
matic offers  and  honours  followed  :  his  place  in  public 
life  broadened,  and  in  1892  he  was  the  Republican 
candidate  for  Vice-President  of  the  United  States, 
marching  to  defeat  in  company  with  President 
Harrison.  I  omit  details  which  would  find  place 
in  a  biography.  My  concern  here  is  to  mention  only 
such  matters  as  influenced  not  only  a  career  but  an 
individuality  ;  things  that  went  to  the  forming  of 
the  character  which  has  impressed  itself  on  the 
attention  of  the  English.  But,  as  perhaps  the  best 
illustration  of  all,  I  must  find  room  for  the  story  of 
his  Philippine  experiences. 

The  true  story,  or  the  whole  story,  of  the  acqui- 
sition of  the  Philippines  was  not  told  at  the  time. 
Whether  it  has  been  published  since,  I  cannot  say. 
What  I  knew  in  1898  of  the  inner  facts  I  knew 
in  confidence  and  could  not  then  relate,  but  there 
is  now  no  reason  why  the  essential  part  of  the 
narrative  should  not  be  given  :  even  though  another 
leaf  of  the  laurel  which  crowned  Mr.  McKinley's 
brow  has  to  be  plucked  away.  He  was  then  Presi- 
dent, and  as  the  Philippines  became  American 
while  he  was  President  the  annexation  will  always,  I 
suppose,  be  reckoned  his  work.  In  fact,  he  never  made 
up  his  mind  about  it.  His  mind  was  made  up  for  him 
and  the  Peace  Commissioners  to  whom  he  was  sup- 
posed to  give  instructions  ended  by  sending  instruc- 
tions to  him.  Not,  of  course,  in  the  form  of  instruc- 
tions. In  form  they  were  advising  opinions,  but  they 
were  put  in  such  a  way  that  the  President  had  no  choice 
but  to  accept  them  and  act  on  them.  If  the  attitude 
seems  a  strange  one  for  the  President  of  the  United 


192       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

States,  it  is  no  stranger  than  his  attitude  throughout 
the  Spanish  troubles.  In  that  war,  or  in  the  causes 
that  brought  on  the  war,  his  was  never  the  initiative. 
After  hostiHties  had  ceased  he  still  left  to  others  the 
initiative  of  peace  and  the  terms  on  which  peace  was 
to  be  made. 

It  was,  of  course,  the  President  who  appointed  the 
Peace  Commissioners,  five  in  number.  They  were 
Judge  Day  of  Ohio,  then  Secretary  of  State,  Chairman  ; 
Senator  Frye  of  Maine,  Senator  Davis  of  Minnesota, 
Senator  Gray  of  Delaware,  and  Mr.  Reid.  There  was 
both  in  the  Commission  and  in  the  country  a  party 
for  and  a  party  against  the  taking  of  the  islands.  Mr. 
Reid's  views  were  known  to  the  President.  He  had 
published  an  article  in  the  Century  magazine  of  New 
York.  The  Commissioners  held  their  first  meeting 
in  Washington,  in  the  Cabinet  room  of  the  White 
House,  ostensibly  to  receive  their  instructions  from 
the  President  who  was  at  the  meeting.  But  in  fact 
the  President  was  not  then  (nor  ever)  ready  to  give 
his  instructions.  He  desired  to  hear  the  opinions  of 
his  Commissioners  and,  having  heard  them  and  finding 
them  divided,  dispatched  the  Commission  to  Paris, 
without  instructions. 

Upon  their  arrival  in  Paris  they  were  still  divided. 
Judge  Day,  a  man  of  singularly  cautious  temperament, 
wanted  neither  the  PhiHppines  as  a  whole  nor  any  part 
of  them,  except  possibly  a  coahng  station  and  even 
as  to  that  he  was  in  doubt.  Senator  Gray  was  still 
more  strongly  opposed  to  the  policy  of  annexation. 
Senator  Davis,  who  had  in  him  something  of  the 
knight-errant  and  therefore  a  touch  of  chivalry  which 
might  be  called  quixotic,  declared  himself  in  favour 
of  retaining  the  northern  part  of  the  Archipelago,  but 
was  prepared,  in  his  chivalrous  way,  to  make  a  present 


MR.   WHITELAW   REID  193 

of  Mindanao  and  the  whole  southern  part  to  Holland. 
As  I  understood,  it  was  to  be  a  gift,  not  a  sale,  and 
Holland  was  not  to  be  asked  to  "  pay  anything  "  or 
to  give  anything  in  exchange.  But  if  that  could  not 
be  managed  he  was  willing  to  make  a  bargain  with 
some  other  European  Power,  receiving  in  return 
territory  likely  to  be  of  more  use  to  us.  Senator  Frye 
was,  at  first,  inclined  to  agree  with  Senator  Davis. 
Maine  being  one  of  the  six  New  England  States,  and 
throughout  New  England  opposition  to  annexation 
in  any  form  having  begun  and  seeming  likely  to  grow, 
Senator  Frye  was  for  the  moment,  like  a  good  politician, 
disposed  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  the  people  who  were 
his  people. 

Mr.  Reid,  who  spoke  last,  had  no  doubts.  He  was 
for  annexation  pure  and  simple  ;  for  annexing  the 
whole  of  the  Philippines  and  not  part.  He  took  the 
view  which  I  think  an  English  diplomatist  accus- 
tomed, as  we  were  not,  to  dealing  with  problems  of 
this  kind  would  have  taken.  He  held  that  the  United 
States,  having  broken  the  Power  which  ruled  the 
Philippines,  had  come  under  an  obligation  to  take 
over  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  that  Power  in 
these  islands.  We  could  not  honourably,  he  thought, 
renounce  these  obligations,  nor  could  we  hand  them 
over  to  another  Power. 

A  strong  man  who  knows  his  own  mind  is  apt  to  be 
master  of  other  men's  minds,  and  so  it  happened  in 
this  case.  Mr.  Reid's  was  the  only  clear  policy  an- 
nounced, except  the  policy  of  doing  nothing  and  leav- 
ing the  Philippines  to  become  the  prey  of  the  Power 
that  most  wanted  them ;  presumably  Japan.  The 
Spaniards,  meantime,  had  shown  their  hands  ;  reports 
of  the  negotiations  had  been  sent  to  the  President, 
and  at  last  he  called  for  detailed  statements  by  in- 
o 


194       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

dividual  members  o£  the  Commission.  Senator  Day 
and  Senator  Gray  read  written  declarations  in  favour 
o£  surrender.  Mr.  Reid  read  his,  in  favour  of  keeping 
the  islands.  A  discussion  followed,  at  the  end  of  which 
Senator  Davis  and  Senator  Frye  suggested  to  Mr. 
Reid  that  his  statement  might,  without  altering  any 
essential  doctrine,  be  put  in  such  shape  that  they 
could  sign  it.  This  was  done.  Signed  by  Davis,  Frye, 
and  Reid,  in  the  order  named,  it  went  to  the  President, 
in  company  with  the  opposing  opinions  of  Day  and 
Gray.  Mr.  McKinley's  was  a  mind  open  to  impres- 
sions, prone  to  accept  the  views  of  a  majority,  and 
grateful  to  those  who  would  relieve  him  from  the  irk- 
some duty  of  coming  to  a  decision  of  his  own.  He 
acceptedMr.  Reid's  policy ;  and  soMr.  Reid's  conception 
of  public  duty,  which  had  gone  to  the  President  as  an 
expression  of  opinion  by  the  majority  of  the  Commis- 
sioners, returned  to  them  in  the  form  of  instructions 
by  the  President,  and  the  Philippines  were  annexed. 
The  agreement  to  pay  Spain  $20,000,000  (^4,000,000) 
as  compensation  for  public  works  and  property  on  the 
islands  was  in  the  nature  of  a  solatium,  and  in  no  sense 
was  it  purchase  money.  The  islands  were  ours,  had 
we  so  chosen,  without  payment  of  a  dollar. 

I  am  writing  of  a  man  who  for  a  quarter  of  a  century 
was  my  chief  ;  the  editor  of  a  newspaper  which  I 
served  abroad.  We  were  friends  before  that,  and 
since,  and  I  have  had  every  means  of  knowing  what  he 
was  like.  I  look  back  over  that  long  period  with  a 
vivid  sense  of  what  I  owe  to  Mr.  Reid.  Subject,  of 
course,  to  his  authority,  I  was  given  a  free  hand  in 
European  affairs.  He  took  large  and  generous  views 
both  in  the  editorship  and  management  of  The  Tribune 
and  in  his  relations  with  his  staff.  I  will  restate  what 
I  said  in  the  first  series  of  these  Memories  of  the  way 


MR.    WHITELAW    REID  195 

in  which  he  handled  one  matter,  which  seems  to  have 
been  misunderstood. 

Like  most  American  journals  The  Tribune  was  in 
favour  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  first  scheme  of  Home  Rule 
for  Ireland  in  1886.  I  was  not,  and  I  was  allowed  day 
by  day  and  week  by  week,  by  cable  and  by  post,  to 
say  what  I  thought  on  that  subject.  I  doubt  whether 
at  that  time  in  any  other  important  journal  in  the 
United  States  the  case  against  Home  Rule  and  the 
Home  Rulers  was  freely  and  fully  stated.  It  was  a 
subject  which  then  interested  Americans  profoundly. 
There,  as  here  in  England,  the  Irish  Nationalists  were 
masters  of  the  art  of  adroit  misrepresentation.  The 
majority  of  the  American  Press  and  people  were  misled. 
They  were  asked  to  believe,  and  did  believe,  that 
the  Home  Rule  which  Ireland  demanded  would,  if 
granted,  have  left  her  in  a  relation  to  the  Government 
of  Great  Britain  analogous  to  the  relation  between  the 
States  of  the  American  Union  and  the  Union  itself. 
There  was,  of  course,  never  a  moment,  and  is  not  now, 
when  the  Irish  Nationalists  would  have  accepted  that, 
but  they  induced  the  American  people  to  believe  they 
would  have  accepted  it  ;  and  the  delusion  captivated 
American  sympathies. 

On  that  and  on  the  general  issue  I  was  allowed  to 
present  the  views  of  the  English  who  did  not  wish  to 
see  the  United  Kingdom  broken  in  pieces ;  all  the 
time  in  opposition  to  the  editorial  view  of  the  paper 
in  which  my  letters  and  dispatches  appeared.  The 
Tribune  was  criticized  for  allowing  it,  and  I  was 
criticized  for  presuming  to  have  an  opinion  other  than 
the  general  American  opinion  on  that  issue.  I  do  not 
know  that  The  Tribune  or  I  was  ever  a  penny  the  worse 
for  these  attacks.  But  to  Mr.  Reid  is  due  an  acknow- 
ledgment of  the  wise  liberality  he  showed  ;    perhaps 


196       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

the  wiser  and  certainly  the  more  liberal  because  of 
his  sensitiveness  to  criticism  which  he  could  well 
afford  to  neglect.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  aware  of  the 
facts.  He  knew  that  only  by  The  Tribune  was  the 
American  support  of  his  policy  imperilled  or  dimin- 
ished. It  mattered  little  who  held  the  pen.  What 
mattered  was  the  publicity  in  The  Tribune^  but  I  was 
never  forgiven  by  Mr.  Gladstone  for  my  share  in  the 
work.  Against  Mr.  Reid  he  seemed  to  bear  no  grudge. 
They  met  on  friendly  terms.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  not 
likely  to  know  much  about  the  division  of  responsi- 
bihties  in  journalism.  Whether  he  did  or  not  he  made 
no  secret  of  his  liking  for  Mr.  Reid,  in  whom  he 
thought  he  recognized  a  type  of  American  not  familiar 
to  him  ;  yet  essentially  American  in  character  and  in 
the  wide  range  of  his  capacities  and  career. 

I  need  not  attempt  a  summary  of  Mr.  Reid's  work 
as  Ambassador  in  England.  It  ranges  from  the  New- 
foundland Fisheries,  finally  referred  to  the  Hague  on 
his  proposal,  to  opium  conferences,  Chinese  proposals 
of  many  sorts,  the  Liberian  loan,  the  Central  American 
troubles.  South  American  troubles,  and  many  others 
which  might  seem  to  have  no  direct  relation  to  this 
Embassy  but  are  habitually  referred  to  it,  as  the  centre 
of  American  diplomatic  activities  abroad.  But  Mr. 
Reid's  one  great  service  beyond  all  others,  and  more 
important  than  all  others,  has  been  his  steadfast  and 
heartfelt  advocacy  of  Anglo-American  friendship  as  a 
policy  alike  beneficial  and  indispensable  to  both  Powers. 
That  point  needs  no  arguing.  It  has  become  an  axiom 
of  diplomacy,  and  the  work  is  carried  on  with  equal 
zeal  in  London  and  in  Washington.  Mr.  Reid  has 
broadened  the  old  diplomatic  methods.  He  is  Am- 
bassador to  the  British  people  as  well  as  to  the  British 
Government,  and  to  the  British  people  has  addressed 


MR.    WHITELAW   REID  197 

himself  on  topics  likely  to  appeal  to  them  and  to 
elucidate  American  interests.  He  has  spoken  all  over 
the  kingdom  to  sympathetic  audiences,  on  the  great 
men  of  both  countries ;  on  Burke,  on  Lincoln,  on 
America  herself  ;  and  last  of  all,  at  the  yearly  re- 
opening of  the  Philosophical  Institute  in  Edinburgh, 
where  he  set  forth  with  a  wealth  of  new  detail  the 
indebtedness  of  America  to  Scotland  and  Scotsmen. 

For  this  kind  of  work  his  hfelong  love  of  books  and 
of  letters  had  trained  him.  Books  he  has  always  loved. 
When  Minister  to  France  he  collected  French  books 
which,  with  still  more  ample  stores  of  English  and 
American,  may  be  seen  in  the  fine  libraries  at  his  New 
York  house  in  Madison  Avenue  and  his  country  house 
in  Westchester.  At  Dorchester  House  and  at  Wrest 
Park  he  is  still  surrounded  by  books.  With  them  he 
has  made  friends  as  with  the  people  among  whom  he 
lives.  Ambassadors  come  and  go,  but  London  and 
that  larger  London  which  is  England  will  long  remem- 
ber the  long  intimacy  which  has  grown  up  between 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reid  and  the  kin  among  whom  they  have 
lived. 

One  compliment,  a  diplomatic  but  involuntary  com- 
pliment, he  pays,  Scot  though  he  be  by  descent,  to 
the  country  of  his  diplomatic  adoption.  He  resembles 
nothing  so  much  as  a  portrait  of  himself  by  Van  Dyck, 
and  nowhere  is  the  likeness  so  striking  as  in  Dorchester 
House,  where  other  Van  Dycks  look  down  from  the 
walls  on  their  American  cousin. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

TWO   METHODS   OF   DIPLOMACY,   AMERICAN 
AND    EUROPEAN* 

TT  seems  to  be  believed  in  America  that  our  diplo- 
-■'  matic  service  in  Europe  has  been,  on  the  whole, 
adequate  and  even  distinguished.  I  do  not  think  that 
is  quite  so.  We  judge  by  exceptions.  We  do  not 
take  account  of  the  whole  matter.  We  say,  quite 
naturally  :  "  We  have  had  very  able  ministers ;  the 
business  of  the  country,  when  it  became  critical,  has 
been  well  done  ;  the  men  we  have  sent  to  do  it  have 
been  the  intellectual  equals  of  those  whom  they  have 
had  to  encounter,  and  the  records  of  the  State  De- 
partment in  Washington  are  records  of  victories 
achieved  or  of  honourable  and  useful  compromises." 

Even  were  that  so  generally,  as  it  is  undoubtedly  so 
in  part,  it  would  not  prove  the  case  of  those  who  argue 
that  our  haphazard  methods  have  brought  as  good  re- 
sults as  might  have  been  obtained  by  a  system  and  a 
service,  neither  of  which  have  we  ever  had.  For  what 
we  have  to  consider  is,  at  least  in  part,  the  general 
impression  produced  on  Europe  by  our  Ministers  and 
our  diplomatic  procedure.  That  is  what  a  country  is 
judged  by  in  the  long  run,  and  not  by  the  brilliant 
exceptions. 

If  we  compare  ourselves  with  any  European  country 
we  may  see,  if  we  choose  to  see,  what  these  old  coun- 
tries gain  by  their  old  methods.     Suppose  we  take 

*  Not  published  in  The  Tribune. 
198 


TWO    METHODS   OF   DIPLOMACY     199 

England ;  not  perhaps  the  instance  which  proves  most, 
but  the  most  familiar.  She  has,  in  the  first  place,  a 
Foreign  Office  completely  equipped  ;  a  permanent 
official  at  the  head  of  its  permanent  staff  ;  never  ap- 
pointed nor  ever  removed  for  reasons  of  party.  It  is 
a  branch  of  the  Civil  Service.  She  has,  in  the  second 
place,  another  body  of  Civil  Servants  who  are  Am- 
bassadors, Ministers  Plenipotentiary,  Ministers  Resi- 
dent, Councillors,  Secretaries,  and  Attaches.  She 
pays  her  Ambassadors,  in  round  numbers,  from  ^6000 
to  j/^i 0,000  a  year,  and  provides  each  of  them  with  a 
palace  in  which  to  live  and  do  the  business  he  is  sent 
to  do.  She  neither  appoints  nor  dismisses  them  for 
political  reasons.  They  enter  the  service  as  boys  by  a 
competitive  examination.  They  rise,  to  some  extent, 
by  seniority,  but  for  the  highest  posts  seniority  is 
tempered  by  selection. 

If,  as  has  sometimes  happened,  especially  of  late 
years,  other  men  are  needed  than  those  available  within 
the  strict  line  of  diplomatic  promotion,  they  are  taken 
from  the  outside,  but  have  been,  all  save  one,  men  of 
diplomatic  training  and  experience.  Lord  Paunce- 
fote  went  from  the  Foreign  Office  itself,  of  which  he 
was  Permanent  Under  -  Secretary,  to  Washington. 
Although  in  the  Foreign  Office,  and  because  he  was 
in  the  Foreign  Office,  he  was  not  in  the  line  of  pro- 
motion for  abroad.  Sir  Michael  Herbert,  already 
Minister  Resident  at  Paris,  was  made  Ambassador  to 
Washington  over  the  heads  of  many  seniors.  Both 
rendered  inestimable  services  to  both  countries.  Lord 
Dufferin,  at  Paris  ;  Sir  Henry  Drummond  Wolff,  at 
Madrid  ;  Lord  Currie,  at  Rome  ;  Sir  Charles  Har- 
dinge,  at  St.  Petersburg  ;  and  Sir  Francis  Bertie,  the 
present  Ambassador  in  Paris,  are  all  illustrations,  and 
for  the  most  part  very  brilliant  illustrations,  of  this 


200       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

freedom  of  choice.  The  present  British  Ambassador 
in  Washington  is  another  illustration  ;  which  may  also 
be  considered  brilliant  from  a  business  point  of  view. 
The  Foreign  Minister,  who  makes  these  outside  ex- 
periments, is  accustomed  to  choose  as  Ambassador  one 
who  is  both  a  diplomatist  and  a  man  of  the  world.  It 
is  unusual  to  choose  one  who  is  neither. 

My  point  is,  however,  that  this  system,  which  in 
theory  is  rigid,  is  in  practice  flexible,  and  accommodates 
itself  to  the  necessities  of  cases  as  they  arise.  This 
elasticity  in  no  respect  impairs  the  advantages  arising 
from  a  settled  order.  The  advantages  of  permanence 
and  of  continuity  remain,  because  permanence  and 
continuity  are  the  rule,  and  outside  appointments  are 
the  exception,  and  have  never  been  the  rewards  of 
party  service,  save  in  this  latest  instance  in  Washington. 

Whereas  with  us,  permanence  and  continuity,  if 
they  can  be  said  ever  to  have  existed,  are  the  exception. 
Till  quite  recently  they  did  not  exist  at  all.  The  rule 
was  instability,  and  I  am  afraid  instability  is  still  the 
rule.  A  recent  case  will  show  how  lightly  we  handle 
such  matters  and,  incidentally,  to  what  financial 
straits  our  diplomacy  is  reduced.  Mr.  John  Ridgely 
Carter,  long  known  as  Secretary  of  Embassy  in  London, 
was  "  promoted  "  to  be  Minister  to  Roumania.  He 
was  then  offered,  as  a  further  promotion,  the  Argentine 
Mission,  which  he  declined  on  the  ground  that  he 
could  not  afford  to  accept  it.  The  salary  of  the 
American  Minister  to  the  Argentine  is  $12,000,  or 
^2400  a  year  ;  and  the  rent  of  a  suitable  Legation  in 
Buenos  Aires  is  $15,000  or  ;£30oo  a  year.  The  State 
Department  is  now  able  to  supplement  diplomatic 
salaries  from  a  contingent  fund,  but  the  sum  allotted 
in  this  case  was  far  from  sufficient,  and  so  Mr.  Carter's 
services  are  lost  to  the  Government.     He  deserved  a 


TWO    METHODS   OF   DIPLOMACY     201 

better  appointment  and  a  better  fate,  but  Mr.  Knox, 
who  rules  over  the  American  Foreign  Office,  treated 
Mr.  Carter's  refusal  as  a  resignation.  Mr.  Knox  is  a 
very  able  lawyer  whose  knowledge  of  diplomacy  is  a 
recent  acquisition.  He  has  shown  in  this  and  other 
matters  a  rigidity  of  mind  which  in  the  conduct  of 
international  affairs  does  not  make  for  efficiency.  It 
is  a  subject  on  which  one  is  tempted  to  be  indiscreet, 
but  I  pass  on.  In  the  London  Embassy,  at  any  rate, 
Mr.  Knox  has  shown  a  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things 
which  may  go  far  to  excuse  mistakes  elsewhere.  In- 
deed it  would  not  be  easy  for  a  Secretary  of  State, 
unfamihar  though  he  may  be  with  European  usages,  to 
undervalue  Mr.  Reid's  services. 

The  first  American  Secretary  of  State  to  perceive 
the  inestimable  value  of  continuous  service  was  Mr. 
Hay.  He  had  lived  much  abroad ;  privately  and 
officially.  He  knew  Europe  well.  He  knew  that 
England  and  France  and  Germany  profited  by  their 
ordered  and  continuing  diplomacy.  He  knew  the 
prestige  of  their  Foreign  Offices  ;  organized  solely  in 
order  to  conduct  Foreign  Affairs  on  business  principles. 
He  knew  what  weight  of  authority  attached  to  the 
great  embassies  because,  without  exception,  British 
and  French  and  German  Ambassadors  represented 
not  this  or  that  party  at  home  but  the  State.  He 
would  admit,  as  we  all  do,  that  individual  American 
Ambassadors  have  put  behind  them  party  predilections, 
and  that  their  voice  has  been  the  voice  of  America. 
But  how  was  the  foreigner  to  know  that,  when  he 
well  knew  that  they  were  appointed  first  of  all  as 
Republicans  or  Democrats  and  not  as  Americans  ? 
No  British  Ambassador  was  ever  regarded  as  Con- 
servative or  Liberal.  Probably  he  had  no  politics. 
Certainly  as  Ambassador  he  had  no  politics.     He  was 


202       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

an  Englishman,  first,  last,  and  all  the  time.  Let  us 
reflect  for  one  moment  on  what  that  means. 

Mr.  Hay  had  seen  this  system  at  work  all  over 
Europe.  He  had  studied  it  in  its  relation  to  different 
Powers.  When  President  McKinley  made  him  Secre- 
tary of  State  he  set  himself  to  imitate  it.  If  the  word 
imitate  excites  a  prejudice,  I  will  phrase  it  differently. 
He  set  himself  to  appropriate,  so  far  as  he  could,  what 
there  was  best  in  it,  and  to  adapt  it  to  American  uses. 
He  promoted  Mr.  Lloyd  Griscom  to  be  Minister,  and 
from  Minister  to  Persia  and  Japan  he  became  Am- 
bassador to  Rome,  with  the  best  results.  Mr.  Root,  I 
must  say  in  passing,  took  up  Mr.  Hay's  idea  and  acted 
upon  it  with,  in  most  cases,  sagacity  and  discrimination. 
I  think  it  a  misfortune  for  the  public  service  that  Mr. 
Griscom  should  have  ceased  to  be  Ambassador  at 
Rome,  though  whether  he  resigned  for  private  reasons 
or  in  obedience  to  custom  I  know  not.  It  is  a  mis- 
fortune, although  he  had  a  competent  successor.  Mr. 
Meyer  was  sent  from  Rome  after  five  years'  service  to 
St.  Petersburg,  where  he  remained  two  years ;  in  each 
capital  a  capable  representative.  Mr.  McCormick 
was  an  instance  of  the  blending  of  the  two  rules,  the 
rule  of  service  and  the  rule  of  politics.  He  was  Minister 
to  Austria-Hungary  ;  Ambassador  to  Russia  ;  finally 
Ambassador  to  France.  It  looks  on  the  face  of  it 
like  a  beautiful  example  of  the  new  rule  of  promotion 
for  good  service.  But  Mr.  McCormick's  original 
nomination  and  his  successive  transfers  were  due  to 
political  influence  of  a  kind  that  was  thought  irre- 
sistible. The  result  was  not  such  as  to  justify  the 
experiment. 

The  best  instance  of  all  is  Mr.  Hay's  promotion  of 
Mr.  Henry  White,  after  twelve  years'  distinguished 
service  as  Secretary  in  Vienna  and  in  London,  to  be 


TWO   METHODS   OF    DIPLOMACY     203 

Ambassador  in  Rome,  and  from  Rome  to  the  Embassy 
in  Paris  upon  the  unregretted  retirement  of  Mr. 
McCormick.  In  all  these  places  Mr.  White  has  been 
a  diplomatist  of  marked  ability.  At  times — as  at 
Algeciras,  where  he  found  the  formula  which  kept 
that  troublesome  Conference  together  and  brought 
about  agreement — he  has  shown  himself  equal  to  great 
emergencies.  London,  Rome,  Paris,  all  agree  in  their 
high  estimate  of  his  capacity.  Upon  the  expiration 
of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  Presidency,  the  one  diplomatic 
request  he  made  of  his  successor  was  for  the  retention 
of  Mr.  White  as  Ambassador  in  Paris.  Mr.  Taft,  for 
reasons  which  I  do  not  understand  and  therefore  do 
not  criticize,  disregarded  Mr.  Roosevelt's  recommenda- 
tion, and  accepted  the  resignation  which  Mr.  White, 
like  every  other  American  Ambassador,  had  offered  as 
matter  of  form  and  in  obedience  to  custom.  Mr. 
White  had  made  for  himself  not  only  a  position  in 
Paris  but  a  European  reputation.  No  reason  was 
given  for  his  removal.  It  passed  as  a  Presidential 
caprice.  To  say  that  it  was  regretted  is  to  say  nothing. 
The  official  and  social  worlds  of  Paris  were  astounded. 
The  American  Embassy  had  been,  while  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
White  were  Ambassador  and  Ambassadress,  a  social 
head-quarters  not  for  Americans  only  but  for  what 
there  was  best  in  French  life.  At  the  French  Foreign 
Office  Mr.  White  was  regarded  as,  in  every  best  sense, 
a  representative  of  his  country  whose  interests  he  knew 
how  to  defend,  while  never  forgetting  the  menage- 
ments  which  diplomacy  expects  of  every  diplomatist 
in  high  place.  Experience,  personal  fitness,  popularity 
— all  these  counted  for  nothing  and  Mr.  White  was 
dismissed.  He  has  since  been  sent  on  an  important 
special  mission  to  South  America.  Such  a  mission,  for 
which  the  President  rightly  thought  Mr.  White  the 


204       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

right  man,  requires  far  more  tact  and  more  diplomatic 
capacity  than  the  Embassy  to  France.  With  France 
our  relations  are  those  of  easy  friendship,  of  which 
any  disturbance  is  likely  to  be  limited  and  momentary. 
With  the  South  American  States  we  are  in  relations 
which  are  always  delicate  and  sometimes  dangerous. 
Upon  the  kind  of  protectorate  exercised  by  the  United 
States  in  virtue  of  the  Monroe  doctrine,  such  Powers  as 
the  Argentine,  Brazil,  and  Chili  look  with  a  vigilant 
scrutiny  that  may  readily  harden  into  suspicion.  Their 
susceptibilities  have  to  be  considered.  They  need  a 
gentle  hand  and  sympathetic  treatment  throughout. 
If  Mr.  White  were  equal,  as  he  certainly  was,  to  a 
mission  so  difficult  as  this,  what  reason  could  there 
have  been  for  removing  him  from  the  Embassy  at 
Paris,  where  diplomacy  goes  sur  des  roulettes  P  I  do 
not  know  that  any  answer  has  been  given  to  this 
question.  It  need  not  be  pressed,  for  the  sending  of 
Mr.  White  to  South  America  is  a  confession  that  his 
recall  from  France  was  a  mistake. 

I  should  offer  no  criticism  on  President  Taft  or  on 
Mr.  Knox,  except  this  :  that  they  imperfectly  com- 
prehend the  situation  abroad  with  which  they  are 
called  upon  to  deal.  I  will  put  it  in  this  way.  No 
political  or  party  advantage  at  home  could  counter- 
balance the  loss  and  injury  abroad  if  Mr.  Hay's  and 
Mr.  Root's  rule  and  practice  are  to  be  disregarded, 
and  the  diplomatic  nominations  to  be  flung  to  the 
wolves  again.  The  wolves  are  the  politicians.  Mr. 
Taft  is  skilled  in  politics,  as  we  all  know,  but  he  is  also 
President  of  the  United  States,  as  we  all  know,  and  his 
first  obligations  as  President,  and  last,  are  to  the  United 
States  and  not  to  the  Republican  party.  With  a  State 
Department  still  so  imperfectly  equipped  as  ours, 
lacking  money,  men,  organization,  and  much  else,  the 


TWO    METHODS  OF  DIPLOMACY     205 

obligation  to  keep  good  men  in  their  places  abroad  is 
the  more  imperative.  The  question  for  him  and  for 
Mr.  Knox  is  whether  they  will  carry  on  the  good  work 
begun  by  Mr.  Hay,  to  whom  President  McKinley 
gave  a  free  hand,  or  whether  they  will  break  in  upon 
it  and  impair  the  diplomatic  prestige  Hay  had  begun 
to  establish. 

Lord  Rosebery,  in  that  speech  to  the  Imperial  Press 
Conference — which  has  gone  echoing  round  the  world 
to  re-echoing  applause,  as  perhaps  no  other  speech 
in  our  time  has  gone — put  the  case  for  stability  and 
permanence  with  his  wonted  felicity  and  force.  He 
proposed,  not  quite  seriously  nor  altogether  in  jest,  a 
new  use  for  "  surplus  "  battleships.  He  would  have 
Parliament  vote  supplies  for  two  years  "  and  then  pack 
itself  in  three  or  four  of  these  obsolete  warships  and 
go  for  a  trip  in  order  to  find  out  something  about  the 
empire."    He  continued  : 

"  You  might  object  at  once,  in  limine ^  to  my  scheme 
and  say,  '  How  would  the  country  be  governed  while 
all  the  Ministers  were  absent  ?  ' 

"  I  reply  with  confidence  that  it  would  be  governed 
much  as  it  is  now,  by  the  permanent  heads  of  the 
departments,  and  I  am  sure  that  some  of  us  would 
feel  even  greater  confidence  in  the  welfare  of  the 
country  if  it  were  under  that  permanent  and  well- 
ordered  control." 

That,  of  course,  includes  the  Foreign  Office,  and 
the  Foreign  Office  includes  diplomacy,  and  it  cannot 
be  too  often  repeated  that  continuity  of  foreign  pohcy 
is  one  main  secret  of  strength  ;  and  continuity  in  the 
diplomatic  service  one  chief  cause  of  efficiency.  Lord 
Rosebery  has  been  Foreign  Minister,  a  great  Foreign 
Minister,  and  knows  as  much  about  it  as  anybody. 
This  is  his  testimony  ;  the  testimony  of  an  expert.    If 


2o6       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

you  proposed  to  any  European  Power  to  adopt  our 
happy-go-lucky  practice  you  would  be  laughed  at.  In 
all  of  them  the  diplomatic  service  is,  first  of  all,  a 
service,  to  which  men  give  their  lives.  We  have  no 
service.  It  is  in  all  European  countries  a  first  line  of 
defence.  Before  you  can  begin  a  war  you  have  got  to 
get  past  the  diplomatists.  They  are  entrenched  in 
traditions,  in  fixed  principles  of  international  conduct, 
in  fixed  methods  of  giving  effect  to  their  principles. 
They  have  an  understanding  among  themselves. 
They  speak  a  language  of  their  own.  No  matter 
whether  it  be  English  or  German  or  French — it  is 
usually  French — they  use  words  in  an  acquired,  tech- 
nical, diplomatic  sense,  perfectly  familiar  to  them, 
unfamiliar  to  others.  They  have  learned  by  long 
experience  how  to  make  use  of  social  forces.  They 
have  studied  not  only  national  characteristics  but 
personal  characteristics.  There  are,  in  the  German 
and  other  foreign  offices,  the  dossiers  of  every  Minister 
and  Ambassador  in  all  Europe.  They  have  a  code  of 
morals  all  their  own. 

How  is  all  this  to  be  mastered  by  the  able  amateur 
whom  we  send  abroad,  once  in  four  years,  to  measure 
himself  with  the  professionals  of  every  other  Power  ? 
If  he  has  a  natural  aptitude  for  such  studies  he  will 
see  the  complexity  of  the  problem,  and  he  will  set 
himself  to  solve  it.  With  his  American  quickness  and 
flexibility  of  mind  he  will,  at  the  end  of  two  or  three 
or  four  years,  have  learned  a  good  part  of  his  new  trade. 
Then  he  will  be  recalled  and  a  new  man  be  sent  to  go 
through  a  similar  apprenticeship  ;  and  he  also,  about 
the  time  he  has  become  fit  for  his  work,  will  give  way 
to  another  raw  hand. 

We  have  often  been  well  served  abroad  ;  sometimes 
brilliantly  well.    In  such  cases  the  merit  is  never  that 


TWO    METHODS   OF    DIPLOMACY     207 

o£  the  system  but  of  the  individual.  There  is  no 
system.  If  there  be,  it  is  the  system  of  Monte  Carlo. 
We  gamble  with  the  international  fortunes  of  the 
Republic.  We  sometimes  win,  but  the  fact  that  a 
coup  comes  off  now  and  then  does  not  prove  trente  et 
quarante  to  be  a  wise  poHcy  for  the  conduct  of  great 
affairs. 


CHAPTER   XIX 
THE  AMERICAN  SPEAKER,  MR.  THOMAS  B.  REED 

T  MENTIONED  Gambetta,  but  it  would  be  pos- 
sible to  find  a  much  closer  analogue  to  Mr.  Lowther 
in  an  American  whose  fame  once  covered  a  continent, 
and  perhaps  still  docs ;  I  mean  Mr.  Reed,  the  "  Tom  " 
Reed  of  Washington  and  Maine  politics,  Mr.  Reed, 
it  is  true,  was  far  more  tyrannical  than  it  is  possible  for 
the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons  to  be.  You 
must  make  allowance  for  circumstances  and  for  the 
radical  differences  in  the  nature  of  the  two  offices  which 
bear  the  same  name.  Mr.  Reed  had  a  sense  of  humour, 
as  Mr.  Lowther  has,  and  the  American  sometimes 
allowed  his  sense  of  humour  to  run  away  with  him, 
which  the  Englishman  never  does.  It  never  would 
have  occurred  to  this  or  any  other  English  Speaker  to 
set  up  a  mastery  over  legislation,  or  even  over  the 
business  of  the  House,  such  as  Mr.  Reed  established 
and  his  successor  has  perpetuated  and  even  strength- 
ened. 

I  once  asked  Mr.  Hitt,  the  accomplished  chairman 
of  the  House  Committee  on  Foreign  Affairs,  how  he 
managed  to  get  his  bills  through  the  House.  This 
was  at  the  time  when  Mr.  Reed  had  consolidated  his 
great  power  as  Speaker  and  had  the  House  thoroughly 
in  hand.  Mr.  Reed  and  Mr.  Hitt  were  great  friends, 
and  I  imagined  this  might  make  things  easier  for  a 
chairman  in  Mr.  Hitt's  position.  Whether  it  did  or 
not  you  may  judge  from  his  answer  : 

208 


MR.    THOMAS    B.    REED  209 

"  Of  course  it  requires  a  little  diplomacy.  So  con- 
gested is  the  business  o£  the  House  that  to  reach  a 
bill  in  its  numerical  order  on  the  calendar  would  take 
about  fourteen  years.  But  I  will  tell  you  what  I  do, 
I  wait  till  some  afternoon  toward  the  close  of  business, 
shortly  before  six  o'clock  when  few  members  are 
present,  and  I  look  about  the  House  to  see  if  any 
member  is  there  who  is  likely  to  oppose  the  particular 
bill  I  think  it  important  to  pass.  It  is  my  business  to 
know  my  opponents.  If  I  see  no  one  I  rise  and  move 
that  this  bill  be  made  a  special  order  for  a  specified 
day  sc«ne  six  weeks  hence.  If  there  is  no  objection,  the 
Speaker  declares  the  motion  carried.  Probably  no- 
body present  has  any  idea  what  the  bill  is.  The  effect 
of  such  a  motion  is  that  my  bill  on  the  appointed  day 
has  precedence  and  may  be  brought  up  whenever  I 
think  best.  Again  I  consider  the  state  of  the  House. 
It  would  be  too  much  to  expect  the  bill  to  pass  un- 
opposed in  all  cases,  but  at  least  it  has  a  fair  chance 
and  a  majority  of  our  friends  are  pretty  certain  to  be 
there,  and  so  the  bill  goes  through.  The  Speaker 
has  such  a  control  over  business  that  a  party  measure, 
or  a  measure  of  which  he  and  the  leading  members  of 
the  party  approve,  is  fairly  safe.  I  need  not  tell  you 
that  foreign  affairs  are  not  those  in  which  the  greater 
number  of  Representatives  are  the  most  interested." 

I  used  to  think  Mr.  Reed's  physical  bulk  gave  him, 
in  a  measure,  or  helped  to  give  him,  his  mastery  over 
the  House.  He  was  nearly  as  big  as  the  President  of 
to-day.  When  he  rose  he  seemed  to  fill  the  desk  and 
almost  the  hall  itself.  He  towered  above  the  three 
hundred  and  more  Representatives  ;  dominated  the 
whole  body  ;  sometimes  domineered  over  it.  Who 
could  dispute  with  such  a  mountain  of  humanity  as 
that  ?      From  the  slow  movement  of  the  huge  body 


2IO       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

and  the  slowness  o£  his  speech  the  unwary  were  apt 
to  think  the  mind  also  was  slow.  But  he  was  one  of 
those  rather  unusual  men  who  speak  slowly  and  think 
quickly;  as  his  assailants  from  the  floor  soon  found. 
Like  Hamlet,  he  would  speak  daggers  but  use  none. 
But  his  enemies  went  down  before  him. 

A  fault  in  most  presiding  ofl^cers  in  the  legislatures, 
state  or  national,  in  America  is  the  excessive  use  of 
the  gavel.  Mr.  Reed  had  it,  but  in  less  degree.  It 
is  a  vice  which  has  grown.  The  last  time  I  was  in 
the  House  of  Representatives  Mr.  Speaker  Cannon 
pounded  away  as  if  he  were  breaking  stones  on  the 
road.  The  din  was  incessant  and  quite  useless.  Mem- 
bers did  not  stop  for  the  pounding.  They  stopped 
when  they  had  made  as  much  trouble  as  they  thought 
sufficient  for  the  purpose,  or  when  they  were  tired. 
It  is  a  turbulent  body,  no  doubt.  You  see  the  Speaker 
erect  and  half  a  dozen  or  a  dozen  men  on  their  feet 
at  the  same  time.  In  the  House  of  Commons  when 
the  Speaker  rises  every  one  else  keeps  his  seat  and  is 
glued  to  it  till  the  Speaker  resumes  his  chair.  His 
rising  is  a  signal  which  no  man  disobeys.  There  are 
scenes  of  tumult,  no  doubt,  at  times,  and  the  House 
becomes  volcanic,  but  I  am  speaking  of  disorder  as  a 
habit.  It  is  a  habit  in  Washington,  in  the  Senate  as 
well  as  in  the  House,  and  it  is  not  a  habit  at  West- 
minster. 

One  often  hears  it  said  that  the  Senate  is  the  most 
dignified  legislative  body  in  the  world.  I  will  not  go 
to  the  other  extreme  and  say  it  is  one  of  the  least,  but 
it  is  certain  that  the  European  observer  is  not  im- 
pressed by  its  deportment.  There  also,  as  in  the 
House,  may  be  seen  half  a  dozen  members  all  up 
together,  competing  for  the  attention  of  the  Presi- 
dent, and  continuing  to  compete  after  he  has  made 


MR.    THOMAS   B.    REED  211 

his  choice.  The  noisy  summonses  to  the  pages  and 
the  racing  of  the  pages  to  answer  them  add  nothing 
to  dignity.  I  suppose  the  President  of  the  Senate, 
when  he  is  Vice-President  of  the  United  States  and 
therefore  not  a  member  of  the  Senate,  has  less  authority 
than  has  an  elected  Speaker  of  the  House,  or  an  elected 
President  of  the  Senate.  But  neither  did  Mr.  Reed, 
the  greatest  of  Speakers,  enforce  any  system  of 
unvarying  good  behaviour  upon  his  unruly  subjects. 
He  did  not  set  a  very  high  value  upon  tenue,  in  or  out 
of  the  House.  You  would  see  him,  after  the  House 
had  adjourned,  rolling  comfortably  up  Pennsylvania 
Avenue  in  a  suit  of  clothes  meant  for  country  wear  and 
a  bowler  hat.  Mr.  Hitt  would  be  with  him,  arrayed 
in  the  same  sort  of  costume.  Mr.  Hitt  was  of 
slight  build.  There  is  a  well-known  caricature  in  the 
Vanity  Fair  series  of  old  days,  with  the  late  Mr. 
Corney  Grain,  a  rotund  giant  of  a  man,  smiling  down 
on  Mr.  George  Grossmith,  who  was  anything  but  a 
giant.  The  contrast  in  this  case  was  much  the  same. 
Mr.  Reed  had  perhaps  the  finest  mind  among 
politicians,  or,  if  you  like,  statesmen,  of  his  own  day. 
If  I  wanted  an  original  view  I  used  to  go  to  Mr.  Reed 
for  it,  and  got  it,  and  sometimes  even  got  leave  to 
use  it.  When  you  went  to  him  you  found  him  in  a 
dingy  little  room  in  the  Shoreham,  which  he  nearly 
filled.  The  space  that  was  left  was  devoted  to  a  writing 
desk,  two  chairs,  and  a  tumbled  mass  of  House  bills 
and  other  official  papers,  apparently  all  in  confusion. 
It  was  not  a  cell  to  which  the  Speaker  should  ever  have 
been  condemned.  Everybody  knew  that  Mr.  Reed 
had  no  fortune  and  that  as  Speaker  he  was  stingily 
paid,  as  all  great  officers  of  State  are  in  America  from 
the  President  down.  I  don't  put  it  as  a  personal 
question,  nor  is  the  chief  fault  of  such  a  system  the 


212       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

vexation  to  which  it  subjects  distinguished  servants 
of  the  State.  It  is  the  dignity  of  the  State  itself  which 
is  in  question.  It  is  the  State  which  suffers  when  they 
suffer.  They  are  representative,  and  the  State,  out  of 
its  $600,000,000  of  yearly  revenue,  could  perhaps 
afford  to  pay  them  well  enough  to  maintain  in  the  eyes 
of  the  world  the  dignity  of  one  of  the  greatest  Powers 
in  the  world.    But  it  does  not. 

I  do  not  know  that  Mr.  Reed  cared.  He  was  not 
the  sort  of  man  to  whom  money  comes  first.  Disap- 
pointed ambition,  a  just  ambition  which  it  was  the 
interest  of  the  country  to  gratify,  was  the  real  burden 
on  his  life  at  the  end.  I  suppose  he  could  have  had.  the 
Presidency  if  he  would  have  made  certain  concessions. 
But  he  would  make  none  which  he  deemed  dishonour- 
able, or  inconsistent  with  principles  which  all  men 
knew  he  held. 

But  I  was  saying  that  he  had  original  views,  and  not 
views  only,  but  conceptions  of  public  life.  He  was  the 
first  man  whom  I  ever  heard  point  out  the  decay  of 
Irish  influence  in  America.  It  must  have  been  about 
midway  in  the  90's  that  he  announced  this  discovery. 
He  said  : 

"  The  Irish  in  the  United  States  are  on  longer  a 
political  force.  Time  has  been,  as  you  well  know, 
when  the  effort  to  secure  the  Irish  vote  was  one  of 
the  chief  anxieties  of  politicians  on  both  sides.  This 
anxiety  showed  itself  in  Congress,  in  the  Press,  in 
State  Legislatures,  in  political  contests  all  over  the 
country.  That  day  is  past.  You  must  have  noticed 
the  change  in  the  Press.  The  Press  is  free  again,  and 
we  here  in  Washington  are  free,  and  Americans  and  not 
Irish  now  govern  this  country.  There  are  exceptions, 
but  they  are  few.  I  do  not  think  there  are  half  a 
dozen  districts  throughout  the  land  where  the  Irish 


MR.    THOMAS   B.    REED  213 

vote  now  turns  the  scale,  or  where  the  bosses  arrange 
their  campaign  with  a  view  to  capturing  it." 

I  asked  why  there  had  been  such  a  change.  He 
answered  : 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  why  ;  or  if  I  could  it  would  be 
a  long  and  complex  statement.  What  is  vital  to  us 
is  not  the  reason  but  the  fact,  and  you  may  take  the 
fact  from  me. 

"  Yes,  and  if  you  like  to  tell  your  friends  in  England, 
do  so.  It  may  help  to  improve  the  relations  between 
England  and  us,  and  it  is  for  the  interest  of  both 
countries  that  they  should  be  improved  ;  and  they 
will  be  improved  at  no  distant  date." 

It  is  not  my  business  to  offer  any  opinion  on  this 
declaration.  But  the  fact  that  it  was  made,  and 
made  at  least  fifteen  years  ago,  has  a  great  significance. 
Since  1898,  when  England  put  her  veto  on  the  pro- 
posed European  coalition  in  favour  of  Spain — a  proof 
of  good  will  which  convinced  the  American  people  that 
England  was  their  friend  and  not  their  enemy,  as 
they  had  so  long  been  taught  to  believe — it  may  seem 
less  remarkable  than  it  did  at  the  time  it  was  uttered. 
But  as  an  illustration  of  Mr.  Reed's  political  genius  it 
is  all  the  more  remarkable  because  it  was  made  so 
early.  I  do  not  know  that  he  had  many  English 
sympathies.  When  he  came  to  England,  shortly  before 
his  death,  he  had  planned  to  spend  two  months  here. 
But  he  went  home  long  before  that  short  period  had 
expired.  He  had  come  too  late.  He  could  not  all  at 
once  open  his  mind  to  new  interests  or  new  impres- 
sions. 

I  end  with  an  anecdote,  of  which  the  scene  was 
Ellerslic,  Governor  Morton's  delightful  place  on  the 
Hudson,  where  you  may  form  some  notion  of  what  an 
English   park   is   like   without   crossing   the   Atlantic. 


214       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Mr.  Reed  and  Mr.  Choate  were  two  of  the  guests. 
We  were  in  the  thick  of  our  troubles  in  the  Philippines. 
Mr.  Reed,  as  everybody  knew,  had  opposed  the  ac- 
quisition of  the  islands.  One  night  after  dinner,  the 
whole  house  party  present,  he  and  Mr.  Choate  debated 
the  matter  at  length  and  with  great  freedom.  Mr. 
Choate  gave  us  in  his  forcible  and  forensic  way — and  no 
man  could  state  a  case  better — the  reasons  for  keeping 
the  Philippines  and  reducing  the  "  rebellious  "  Fili- 
pinos to  order.  We  all  listened.  Nobody  interrupted 
the  flow  of  Mr.  Choate's  argument.  Mr.  Reed  did 
not  interrupt.  At  the  end  Mr.  Choate,  urging  that 
surrender  was  impossible,  asked  triumphantly  : 

"  What  do  you  suppose  the  Filipinos  would  do  if 
we  withdrew  the  American  troops  ?  " 

"  Well,"  drawled  Mr.  Reed,  "  I  don't  suppose 
they  would  pursue  us  further  than  San  Francisco." 

And  that  discussion  came  to  an  end. 


CHAPTER   XX 

MR.   JUNIUS   S.   MORGAN 

T  ONG  before  I  knew  Mr.  Pierpont  Morgan  I 
"^  knew  his  father,  Mr.  J.  S.  Morgan,  a  name  then 
and  now  held  in  respect  and  admiration  in  the  City  o£ 
London — that  is,  in  the  EngHsh  world  of  finance — as 
I  hope  and  suppose  it  still  is  in  New  York.  I  remember 
him  for  many  kindnesses,  and  many  pleasant  associa- 
tions, and  still  more  for  a  force  and  dignity  of  character 
rare  at  all  times.  He  was  a  successful  man  in  the  City 
before  he  became  a  power  there.  The  date  of  his 
becoming  a  power  was  1871.  Gambetta  was  at  the 
head  of  the  Government  of  National  Defence  at 
Bordeaux,  and  sorely  in  want  of  money.  M.  Laurier 
was  his  Minister  of  Finance  and  undertook  to  negotiate 
a  loan  for  ^10,000,000.  London  would  not  look  at  it. 
One  great  house  after  another  declined  to  find  the 
money.  It  was  not  so  much  a  question  of  price  as  of 
security.  The  English  bankers  and  financiers  had  no 
confidence  in  the  stability  of  this  Government.  They 
had  not  forgotten  that  Thiers  had  called  Gambetta  a 
fou  furieux.  They  thought  the  future  of  France  lay 
in  the  hands  of  Germany,  and  that  Germany  would 
restore  the  Emperor  to  his  overturned  throne  ;  that 
the  provisional  Government  at  Bordeaux  would  be 
swept  out  of  existence,  and  that  with  it  would  go  all 
its  works,  financial  and  other.  One  and  all  they  re- 
fused to  put  the  Laurier  loan  on  the  market. 

At  this  juncture  Mr.  J.   S.  Morgan,  not  at  that 
time  one  of  the  great  houses  of  finance,  came  for- 

215 


2i6       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

ward  and  offered  to  take  the  whole  loan.  His  offer 
was  accepted.  To  the  surprise  of  the  Rothschilds,  the 
Hambros,  and  the  rest,  Mr.  Morgan's  operation 
proved  a  success.  The  loan  was  floated.  The  public 
bought.  The  price  went  up.  Mr.  Morgan  made  a 
great  deal  of  money  and  a  reputation  not  to  be 
measured  in  money.  He  stepped  at  one  stride  into 
the  front  rank. 

All  this  I  heard  at  the  time  or  not  long  after  from 
various  good  sources.  But  nobody  seemed  to  know 
why  he  had  done  it,  or  whether  it  was  anything  but 
a  gamble  followed  by  good  luck.  One  day  I  asked 
Mr.  Morgan  : 

"  Why  did  you  take  the  Laurier  loan  ?  " 
He  thought  a  moment  before  answering,  then  said  : 
"  Oh,  there's  no  secret  about  it,  nor  was  it  alto- 
gether luck,  as  I  believe  some  of  my  City  friends 
thought.  When  it  first  occurred  to  me  that  something 
might  be  done,  I  looked  up  the  financial  history  of 
France.  I  found  that  since  1789  there  had  been  a 
dozen  separate  governments — Monarchy,  First  Re- 
public, Directory,  Consulate,  Empire,  the  Bourbons 
again,  then  the  Orleanists,  then  the  Second  Republic, 
followed  by  the  Second  (or  third)  Empire,  and  so  on. 
Between  these  successive  governments  there  were 
enmities  of  many  kinds ;  dynastic,  personal,  political. 
Each  successor,  with  one  exception,  hated  its  prede- 
cessor.    It  was  one  long  civil  war. 

"  But  I  found  this  also.  Not  one  of  these  govern- 
ments had  ever  repudiated  or  questioned  the  validity 
of  any  financial  obligation  contracted  by  any  other. 
The  continuing  financial  solidarity  of  France  was  un- 
broken. It  was  plainly  a  policy  rooted  in  the  minds 
of  the  people  and  of  the  governing  forces  of  France. 
I  saw  no  reason  why  it  should  be  broken  in  this  case 


MR.    JUNIUS   S.   MORGAN  217 

more  than  in  any  other  ;  less,  perhaps,  than  in  many 
others  since  this  money  was  wanted  for  the  defence 
of  the  country.  That  was  good  enough  for  me. 
There  was  no  gamble.  I  thought  it  a  safe  operation 
as  it  turned  out.    That  is  the  whole  story." 

Of  course,  Mr.  Morgan  knew  it  had  been  a  great  couf  ; 
knew  what  an  authority  it  had  given  him  in  the  City, 
and  there  was  a  fire  in  his  eye  as  he  spoke  which  showed 
he  was  not  insensible  to  the  triumph  he  had  won. 
Why  should  he  be  ?  It  was  considered,  and  has  ever 
since  been  considered,  an  event  in  the  history  of 
English  finance.  Now  and  then  I  have  asked  one  of 
the  big  men  in  the  City  : 

"  Why  did  none  of  you  except  Morgan  think  of  it  ?  " 

Generally  there  was  no  answer  except  a  regret,  or 
a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  but  one  of  them  said  : 

"  Because  Morgan  was  a  better  man  than  any  of  us." 

And  to  the  day  of  his  death  he  held  the  position  he 
had  won. 

Where  is  the  American  who  does  not  read  such  a 
narrative  as  that  with  pride  ?  We  have  had  many 
men  who  have  done  us  honour  abroad  ;  none  that  I 
know  of  who  did  more  for  himself  and  his  country 
than  Mr.  J.  S.  Morgan.  He  made  a  great  fortune.  He 
left  a  great  name.   The  two  do  not  always  go  together. 

There  are  private  memories  which  I  cherish  ;  and 
perhaps  one  or  two  which  I  need  not  keep  to  myself. 
Dover  House  at  Roehampton,  now  Mr.  Pierpont 
Morgan's,  was  not  an  important  country  place,  but 
a  suburban  villa  standing  in  pleasant  grounds  which 
in  America,  where  land  is  scarce,  would  be  thought 
spacious.  But  in  this  narrow  island  in  the  narrow 
seas  nothing  is  thought  spacious  till  you  begin  to 
reckon  by  thousands  of  acres.  However,  you  don't 
expect   thousands   of   acres    in    the   near   suburbs   of 


2i8       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

London,  and  Dover  House  has  as  many  as  you  need 
care  for  and  be  happy.  Mr.  Morgan's  tastes  were,  in 
a  sense,  simple.  He  cared  nothing  for  display.  Beauti- 
ful things  he  loved,  and  Dover  House  was  full  of  them. 
He  had  what  he  wanted.  The  atmosphere  of  the 
place  was  that  of  a  home.  There  were  gardens,  and 
when  you  walked  in  them  with  Mr.  Morgan  at  the 
right  season  he  would  take  you  to  the  strawberry  beds 
and  without  fear  of  his  gardener  turn  you  loose  in 
them,  saying  : 

"  If  you  can  find  finer  strawberries  anywhere  per- 
haps you  will  tell  me  where  they  are." 

They  were  magnificent.  Then  to  the  stables ;  not 
large,  but  whatever  there  was  in  them  that  stood  on 
four  legs  showed  the  lover  of  horses  and  his  knowledge 
of  horses.  "  There's  blood  for  you,"  was  his  only 
comment  as  he  caressed  the  shoulders  of  his  favourite 
bay.    Then  a  pair  of  carriage  horses,  blacks  : 

"  They  will  take  me  from  the  door  of  Dover  House 
to  the  door  of  Prince's  Gate  in  twenty-five  minutes ; 
and  do,  every  morning." 

The  distance  is  seven  miles,  and  the  standard  of 
trotting  speed  is  very  different  in  this  country  from 
the  American  standard.  There  were  no  motors,  and 
men  were  still  of  Dr.  Johnson's  opinion  that  life  had 
few  better  pleasures  to  offer  than  being  whirled  along 
in  a  post-chaise  or  a  phaeton. 

Inside  the  house  there  were  pictures  and  tapestries 
and  other  works  of  art,  but  not  too  many.  In  a  frame 
hanging  on  the  wall  in  the  drawing-room  was  a  piece 
of  Spanish  embroidery,  lustrous  with  old  gold,  I 
think  of  the  sixteenth  century,  from  some  monastery, 
or  more  probably  church,  of  Castile,  a  thing  very 
lovely  in  itself  which  had  a  fascination  for  its  owner. 
If  you  noticed,  you  would  see  his  eyes  turn  often  to 


MR.   JUNIUS    S.   MORGAN  219 

this  and  to  one  or  another  picture.  To  him  they  were 
all  friends.  Dover  House  was  not  a  museum,  as  Prince's 
Gate  was  then  beginning  to  be  and  has  long  since 
become.  Its  treasures  were  not  there  for  show,  but 
because  they  were  treasures  and  because  Mr.  Morgan, 
as  I  was  saying,  loved  beautiful  things. 

Perhaps  he  was  himself  the  most  beautiful  thing  in 
Dover  House.  The  grave,  strong  beauty  of  his  head  was 
remarkable,  with  the  great  sweep  of  the  lines  about 
the  temples  ;  the  lined  forehead,  broad  and  high  ; 
the  eyes  full  of  light  ;  the  face  ending  in  an  immovable 
jaw,  all  will ;  the  mouth  none  the  less  kindly  and  the 
lips  smiling.  When  he  gave  you  his  hand  you  knew 
whether  he  thought  you  a  friend  or  not.  Distinction 
in  every  line  and  movement ;  a  man  used  to  giving 
orders  and  having  them  obeyed  ;  taking  decisions 
quickly  and  taking  the  right  ones.  He  had  fought 
the  long  fight  and  won  it  ;  with  a  life  behind  him  of 
accomplished  purpose  and  unbending  integrity. 

I  dined  there  often,  sometimes  alone,  sometimes 
with  company.  Mr.  Morgan  was  one  of  those  hosts 
who  knew  how  to  take  care  of  his  guests  without  seem- 
ing to.  He  carried  his  simplicity  of  demeanour  into 
every  part  of  life.  There  was  no  effort,  but  things 
went  on  as  he  meant  them  to.  As  a  rule,  he  talked  of 
anything  but  business  ;  topics  never  failed  him,  nor 
considered  views.  Once  or  twice  I  have  seen  him 
angry,  and  he  showed  his  anger  by  a  sudden  restraint 
of  speech  and  of  manner.  He  had  it  in  him  to  be,  like 
the  husband  of  Elizabeth  in  her  German  Garden,  a 
Man  of  Wrath,  but  it  was  not  allowed  to  appear  in 
these  circumstances.  He  liked  to  find  out  what  his 
guests  cared  for  and  liked  to  surprise  them,  or  perhaps 
to  see  whether  they  were  capable  of  surprises.  I  said 
something  one  day  at  dinner  about  the  champagne. 


220      ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

"  You  think  it  good  ?  " 

"  It's  a  wonderful  wine." 

"Do  you  know  what  it  is  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Perrier  Jouet  of  1 865  ;  and  very  nearly  the  last 
of  it.  I  am  no  longer  allowed  to  drink  it,  but  there 
will  be  a  bottle  for  you  whenever  you  come." 

Then  he  said  he  had  once  asked  one  of  the  great 
champagne  merchants  at  Reims  what  he  thought  the 
best  champagne  ever  known  in  the  market  :  "  Next 
after  your  own,  of  course."    The  great  man  answered  : 

"  There's  no  question  of  mine  or  of  any  other. 
We  all  agree  that  the  finest  wine  ever  produced  in 
Champagne  was  the  Perrier  Jouet  of  1865.  The  best 
of  the  74's  don't  touch  it." 

To  me,  as  to  everybody,  in  great  matters  and  in  less, 
Mr.  Morgan  was  as  good  as  his  word.  The  bottle  of 
Perrier  Jouet  was  always  there.  He  himself  drank 
only  a  tisane.  If  there  were  other  guests  it  was  the 
same.  The  butler  used  always  to  say  to  me  as  he 
filled  my  glass  :  "  It  is  the  wine  Mr.  Morgan  ordered 
for  you,  sir." 

The  accident  which  caused  his  death  as  he  was 
driving  on  the  Riviera  may  be  set  down  to  whatever 
authority  is  responsible  for  the  road-building  in  that 
part  of  the  world.  The  causeway  ended  in  a  gutter 
on  either  side,  cut  sharply  away  from  the  road,  not 
deep,  but  more  than  enough  to  upset  a  carriage.  Mr. 
Morgan  stood  up  in  his  victoria,  the  horses  swerved, 
the  wheels  went  over  the  edge,  he  was  thrown  out, 
and  that  was  the  end.  He  was,  I  think,  seventy-three 
or  seventy-four,  but  the  fate  which  robbed  him  of 
the  years  rightfully  remaining  to  him  was  none  the  less 
cruel ;   to  him  and  to  his  friends. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

MR.    PIERPONT   MORGAN 
I 

T  BEGIN  with  a  financial  anecdote,  the  date  of 
-*-  which  is  long  before  I  knew  Mr.  Pierpont  Morgan. 
Like  some  others  to  follow,  the  origin  of  it  is 
London;  the  City  of  London,  where  Mr.  Morgan 
has  been  in  times  past  regarded  with  more  awe  than 
affection.  The  Orientals,  says  Macaulay,  or  some  of 
them,  pay  their  sincerest  homage  to  the  deities  whom 
they  most  dread  ;  indeed,  they  are  chosen  as  deities 
only  in  order  to  be  propitiated.  And  perhaps  in  this 
case,  though  the  East  is  East  and  the  West  is  West, 
the  East  is  West  also.  In  any  case,  this  is,  I  believe, 
the  first  transaction  which  brought  Mr.  Pierpont 
Morgan  into  notice  in  the  City  as,  in  one  sense,  a 
rival  to  his  father,  in  whose  lifetime  the  transaction 
was  carried  out. 

One  of  the  foremost  houses  in  London,  or  in 
Europe,  had  been  applied  to  by  the  United  States 
Government  to  arrange  for  the  payment  of  a  large 
amount  of  outstanding  Five-Forties.  The  amount 
was  $40,000,000.  The  proposal  was  made  in  the 
spring,  and  our  Government  desired  the  operation 
to  be  completed  and  the  whole  sum  remitted  to  the 
Treasury  at  a  fixed  date  in  the  autumn  ;  I  suppose 
on  the  expiration  of  the  first  term  of  years  when  the 
Government  had  a  right  to  redeem  the  bonds.  I 
know  the  name  of  the  London  firm,  but  it  is  not 
necessary  to  mention  it.     The  head  of  the  firm   at 


222       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

that  time — he  died  long  since — was  a  man  of  great 
capacity  and  authority,  with  an  unrivalled  knowledge 
of  finance  and  an  unrivalled  experience  in  great 
financial  enterprises.  Naturally  he  was  also  a  man  of 
conservative  temperament.  He  thought  $40,000,000 
a  very  large  sum  of  money  to  find  all  at  once,  and 
to  find,  or  have  ready,  six  months  hence,  when  no 
one  could  foresee  what  might  be  the  condition  of  the 
money  market.  If  conditions  were  favourable,  there 
would  be  a  large  profit  on  the  transaction,  but  the 
profit  might  be  turned  into  a  loss  should  the  Bank  rate 
go  up  beyond  a  certain  point.  There  were  many  other 
things  to  be  taken  into  account  and  other  people  to 
be  consulted.  All  this  required  time.  Finally  the 
firm  proposed  to  our  Government  to  take  $20,000,000, 
with  the  option  of  taking  the  other  $20,000,000  at  a 
specified  date. 

The  morning  after  this  proposition  had  been  sent, 
the  firm  received  a  dispatch  from  New  York  saying  that 
Mr.  Pierpont  Morgan  had  offered  to  take  the  whole 
$40,000,000  on  the  terms  originally  submitted  to  the 
London  firm,  and  that  the  Government  had  accepted 
his  offer. 

It  was  a  surprise,  and  something  more  than  a  sur- 
prise. Mr.  Morgan  was  then  a  young  man,  a  member 
of  the  firm  of  Dabney,  Morgan  &  Co.  ;  almost  un- 
known in  London.  There  was  no  suggestion — there 
could  be  none — that  either  he  or  the  Government 
had  acted  in  bad  faith  or  in  disregard  of  any  obligation 
to  London.  It  was  simply  a  case  where  American 
energy  and  courage,  personified  for  the  moment  in 
Mr.  Pierpont  Morgan,  had  anticipated  the  slower 
movement  of  the  English  house.  But  it  was  re- 
sented ;  I  should  think  bitterly  resented  at  first, 
and    even    when  reflection   had  shown  that   neither 


MR.    PIERPONT    MORGAN  223 

Mr.  Morgan  nor  the  Government  could  be  blamed, 
some  of  the  bitterness  remained.  A  firm  like 
this,  with  its  great  position  and  cautious  methods, 
perhaps  thought  itself  entitled  to  notice  before  a 
negotiation  of  that  magnitude  was  broken  off.  At 
any  rate,  it  had  slipped  away  from  them,  and  Mr. 
Pierpont  Morgan  suddenly  appeared  on  the  Western 
horizon  as  a  figure  henceforth  to  be  reckoned  with. 
It  cannot  have  been  very  long  after  his  father,  Mr. 
Junius  S.  Morgan,  had  electrified  London  by  his 
boldness  and  success  in  the  Laurier  loan,  as  I  explained 
the  other  day.  In  this  American  matter  the  father 
had,  as  I  understand,  no  share.  But  there  were  now 
two  Morgans  instead  of  one,  with  only  the  Atlantic 
between  them,  and  what  is  the  Atlantic  ? 

Years  after,  when  Mr.  Morgan  began  to  launch  one 
scheme  after  another  on  the  London  market,  some  of 
which  failed,  he  was  aware,  I  imagine,  at  times,  of  an 
opposition  which  neither  the  merits  of  his  schemes  nor 
the  circumstance  of  the  market  explained  fully.  They 
would  tell  you  in  the  City  that  American  methods  of 
finance  were  not  altogether  liked  in  London,  that  Mr. 
Morgan's  methods  were  not  liked,  that  the  commis- 
sions paid  tended  to  demoralize  the  market,  and  that 
it  was  as  well  Mr.  Morgan  should  let  the  fact  that 
London  was  not  New  York  sink  into  his  mind.  Now 
and  then  somebody  would  add  : 

"  There  are  perhaps  powerful  interests  that  inter- 
vene which  are  hostile  to  Mr.  Morgan." 

In  short,  it  was  said  that  the  firm  from  whom  Mr. 
Morgan  had  taken  away  the  $40,000,000  contract 
with  the  American  Government  had  not  forgotten  it, 
and  that  they  were  not  unwilling  to  put  a  spoke  in 
his  wheel,  once  in  a  while,  as  a  reminder.  But  I  have 
the  best  authority  for  saying  this  is  not  so.    The  fact 


224      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

that  it  was  believed  in  the  City  to  be  so  shows,  perhaps, 
or  did  show,  a  certain  drift  of  opinion  which  ran 
counter  to  Mr.  Morgan's  wishes.  The  names  of  some 
of  the  companies  or  other  enterprises  which  Mr.  Morgan 
undertook  to  float  and  did  not  succeed  in  floating, 
or  succeeded  only  in  floating  at  the  expense  of  those 
to  whom  shares  were  allotted,  are  as  well  known  in 
New  York  as  here. 

Since  I  have  begun  with  finance,  about  which  I 
know  nothing  except  what  I  am  told,  I  will  go  on. 
One  or  two  incidents  made  a  deep  impression  on  my 
innocent  mind  when  I  heard  them,  and  on  other  minds 
less  innocent  than  mine.  One  relates  to  that  period 
of  distress  in  America  when  we  were  said  to  have  been 
within  twenty-four  hours  of  paying  our  debts  in  silver  ; 
in  other  words,  of  bankruptcy.  Mr.  Grover  Cleveland 
was  then  President,  whom  one  of  his  friends  and 
advisers — not  Mr.  Morgan — once  described  to  me  as 
ignorant  of  finance  and  all  fiscal  matters,  saying  : 

"  All  he  ever  knew  I  taught  him,  and  to  teach  him 
was  impossible.  He  would  absorb  the  facts  of  a  par- 
ticular financial  trouble  and  understand,  or  at  least 
adopt,  the  remedies  I  suggested  ;  and  so  he  would  pull 
through.  But  the  next  time  a  difficulty  occurred  he 
was  just  as  helpless  as  before,  and  everything  had  to 
be  gone  over  with  him  again.  He  could  not  grasp  a 
principle.  To  the  day  of  his  death  he  understood 
neither  money  nor  business." 

In  the  crisis  I  refer  to  I  believe  a  loan  was  wanted 
and  gold  was  wanted ;  a  loan,  if  I  recollect  rightly,  of 
$200,000,000  ;  and  $40,000,000  of  gold  within  a  short 
period.  Mr.  Morgan  was  summoned  to  Washington, 
as  so  often  happened.  A  conference  took  place  between 
Mr.  Cleveland,  with  some  of  his  official  advisers  to 
help,  and  Mr.  Morgan.    Mr.  Cleveland  said  : 


MR.   PIERPONT    MORGAN  225 

"  Mr.  Morgan,  you  all  seem  scared  in  New  York  and 
think  we  are  in  great  difficulties  here  about  money,  but 
I  don't  see  that  things  are  so  bad  as  all  that.  The 
Secretary  tells  me  we  have  $7,000,000  in  the  Treasury 
this  morning." 

Mr.  Morgan  answered  : 

"  Yes,  Mr.  President,  that  is  true,  but  I  have  in  my 
pocket  a  draft  on  the  Treasury  for  $12,000,000,  and 
$7,000,000  won't  pay  it." 

This  concrete  illustration  presented  things  in  a  new 
light  to  Mr.  Cleveland,  and  he  gave  his  assent  to  the 
arrangements  his  official  advisers  were  urging  on  him  ; 
which  Mr.  Morgan  was  then  to  carry  out.  The 
$40,000,000  in  gold  was  found  within  the  agreed  time 
and  paid  into  the  Treasury,  and  we  did  not  go  on  a 
silver  basis  nor  into  bankruptcy.  But  when  it  became 
known  in  New  York  that  Mr.  Morgan  had  pledged 
himself  to  find  these  forty  millions  in  gold,  the  great 
bankers,  I  am  told,  shook  their  heads  and  said  it 
could  not  be  done. 

"  Where  is  Morgan  to  get  his  $40,000,000  in  gold  ? 
It  is  not  to  be  had  in  America,  and  if  he  brings  it 
from  abroad  it  will  send  exchange  to  a  point  which  will 
cause  disaster." 

And  yet  it  was  found,  and  exchange  hardly  moved.  I 
asked  some  of  these  great  financial  authorities  how  Mr. 
Morgan  managed  it.  They  all  said  much  the  same 
thing. 

"  You  must  ask  Morgan.    We  do  not  know." 

Perhaps  the  highest  tribute  that  could  be  paid  him, 
for  it  was  equivalent  to  saying  :  "  He  is  in  a  class  by 
himself."  In  the  end,  from  a  banker  of  renown,  I 
got  a  better  answer  : 

"  I  do  not  know  what  Morgan  did  in  this  case,  but 
I  know  Morgan,  and  I  think  it  probable  he  had  long 
Q 


226       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

foreseen  this  demand  for  gold,  and  that  when  he  was 
asked  to  supply  the  $40,000,000  he  had  already  ac- 
cumulated the  greater  part  of  it,  or  arranged  for  its 
transfer  as  wanted  from  I  know  not  what  vaults." 

The  English  thought  that.  One  of  them  said  a 
similar  thing  during  the  crisis  of  1907  : 

"  Nobody  looks  so  far  ahead  as  Morgan.  We  are 
told  here  that  for  many  months  before  the  crash  came 
he  had  been  selling  securities.  When  it  came  his  bank 
balances  made  him  master  of  the  situation.  We  have 
had  serious  moments  here  in  London,  of  which  the 
Baring  trouble  was  the  most  dangerous,  but  in  that 
and  other  cases  we  have  acted  together.  But  we  have 
never  known  anything  like  that  day  in  New  York,  when 
money  was  100  per  cent  and  not  to  be  had  at  that, 
when  Morgan  flung  on  the  floor  of  the  Stock  Exchange 
$25,000,000  at  10  per  cent,  and  the  danger  was  over." 

He  continued  : 

"  What  I  say  of  Morgan  is  that  he  has  shown  him- 
self again  and  again  a  man  who  can  take  command  of 
a  situation,  and  the  greater  the  peril  the  more  absolute 
is  his  control." 

There  floated  over  to  London  at  a  later  date  a 
different  sort  of  story.  It  was,  I  think,  during  the 
last  of  the  crises,  when  Mr.  Morgan  summoned  the 
leading  bank  presidents  and  other  magnates  -in  finance 
and  laid  a  plan  before  them,  to  which  they  all  assented. 
But  one  considerable  personage  had  stayed  away  from 
this  meeting.  When  it  was  over  Mr.  Morgan  sent  for 
him,  and  he  came.     Said  Mr.  Morgan  : 

"  Mr.  X.,  you  know  what  we  have  agreed  on.  You 
alone  stand  out.  I  think  it  important,  in  the  interest 
of  your  bank  and  of  all  the  banks,  that  you  should 
come  in." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  X.,  "  I  shall  not  come  in." 


MR.    PIERPONT  MORGAN  227 

"  Then  I  give  you  fair  notice  that  if  you  do  not  I 
will  break  you  and  your  bank  together." 

And  he  came  in. 

Of  course  I  do  not  know  whether  these  things,  or 
any  of  them,  happened  in  this  way.  I  give  you  the 
versions  current  in  London  and  believed  in  London. 
They  help  explain  how  it  is  that  Mr.  Morgan's  prestige 
has  grown  in  England  to  its  present  height  ;  not  among 
men  of  finance  only  but  with  the  general  public. 
Such  mistakes  as  he  has  made  do  not  seem  to  have 
much  diminished  it.  Napoleon,  to  whom  he  and  all 
other  masterful  men  are  likened,  lost  many  a  battle 
and  finally  his  throne.  Mr.  Morgan,  too,  has  lost 
battles  but  his  fame  and  authority  here  in  England, 
where  he  lost  them,  were  never  so  great  as  now. 


II 

An  English  banker  said  to  me  : 

"  Morgan's  brain  must  be  built  on  a  plan  different 
from  other  men's.  When  a  proposal  involving  a  great 
sum  of  money  and  complicated  transactions  is  sub- 
mitted to  us  we  take  time  to  consider  it.  We  lay  the 
facts  and  figures  before  our  accountants  and  experts, 
who  go  through  the  whole  and  make  a  report  to  us. 
Upon  that  we  come  to  a  decision.  But  Morgan  de- 
cides instantly." 

Then  he  gave  this  illustration. 

"  He  was  asked  to  take  charge  of  a  financial  opera- 
tion requiring  the  transfer  of  a  great  property  in  a 
foreign  country,  with  drafts  in  the  first  instance  on 
New  York  and  then  from  New  York  to  London  ;  all 
this  at  a  time  when  exchange  was  unsettled  and  the 
markets  of  the  world  were  extremely  sensitive.     He 


228       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

had  to  calculate  commissions  and  stamps  on  the  trans- 
fer and  a  twofold  rate  of  exchange,  and  then  make 
up  his  mind  what  the  price  of  money  was  likely  to 
be  on  the  completion  of  the  undertaking.  He  looked 
at  the  papers,  computed  prices,  exchange,  middle 
profits.  Government  dues,  in  his  head  there  and  then, 
forecast  the  state  of  the  market  at  a  date  some  weeks 
ahead,  and  within  ten  minutes  had  accepted  the 
proposal.  Is  it  wonderful  that  he  gets  business  away 
from  us  in  London,  going  as  slowly  as  we  do  ?  " 

I  knew  of  a  matter  in  New  York  ;  I  believe  in  con- 
nection with  enormous  traction  interests  at  a  time 
when  they  were  most  confused.  There,  it  is  true,  one 
of  his  partners  had  been  at  work  on  the  proposal  for 
some  time,  gone  into  the  details  and  prepared  a  state- 
ment. This  partner  asked  his  overlord  one  afternoon 
at  the  close  of  business  whether  he  would  go  into  it 
next  morning,  adding  :  "  It  will  take  some  hours." 
Said  Mr.  Morgan  : 

"  No,  I  go  to  Washington  to-night.  Get  into  my 
carriage  and  we  will  talk  it  over  as  I  drive  home." 

Before  they  had  reached  Madison  Avenue  Mr. 
Morgan  had  mastered  the  questions  on  which  his  firm 
had  spent  weeks,  and  had  given  his  answer  which  was 
an  acceptance. 

They  say  he  is  hard,  exacting,  and  expects  from 
those  about  him  results  not  excuses.  Very  likely.  A 
lady  who  was  his  wife's  guest  in  Madison  Avenue  said 
to  him  : 

"  Mr.  Morgan,  you  are  kind  and  charming  to  us 
here  in  the  house,  but  I  am  told  you  are  not  always 
like  that  in  your  ofhce  and  they  are  all  afraid  of  you." 

He  flushed,  began  an  answer,  cut  it  short,  and 
finally  said  : 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  right." 


MR.    PIERPONT    MORGAN  229 

But  now  let  us  see  what  there  is  under  this  adaman- 
tine surface. 

There  came  to  him  one  morning  during  a  financial 
crisis  a  merchant  whom  he  did  not  know,  or  just 
knew,  who  said  : 

"  Mr.  Morgan,  I  have  no  claim  on  you,  but  I  shall 
be  thankful  if  you  will  look  at  this  statement  of  my 
affairs.  My  business  is  a  good  one,  I  am  solvent,  but 
the  banks,  as  you  know,  have  shut  down  on  their 
customers,  and  if  I  cannot  have  half  a  million  by  to- 
morrow morning  I  must  go  under.  I  have  come  to 
ask  you  for  the  half-million." 

We  can  all  imagine  what  Mr.  Morgan's  first  impulse 
must  have  been.  But  he  looked  at  the  man's  face, 
looked  at  his  paper,  only  a  half -sheet,  checked  himself, 
and  said  : 

"  Come  to-morrow  morning  and  you  shall  have 
your  answer." 

When  the  man  arrived  next  morning  Mr.  Morgan 
without  a  word  of  greeting  touched  a  bell,  and  to  the 
clerk  who  came  in  said  : 

"  Make  out  a  cheque  for  half  a  million  dollars  to 
the  order  of  Mr.  Z." 

And  as  Mr.  Z.  began  to  thank  him,  Mr.  Morgan 
with  a  smile  held  up  his  hand  : 

"  No,  it  is  a  busy  day.  There's  no  time  for  that. 
Good  morning." 

From  what  I  have  said  before  it  may  be  guessed  that 
Mr.  Morgan's  knowledge  not  only  of  business  in  its 
broadest  aspects,  but  in  all  its  particulars,  is  extra- 
ordinary. I  had  heard  business  men  describe  it  as 
extraordinary,  and  one  day  I  said  to  him  : 

"  Mr.  Morgan,  they  tell  me  you  know  every  detail 
of  banking,  and  can  do  anybody's  work  in  your  office 
better  than  the  man  whose  speciality  it  is." 


230       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  better,  but  what  I  do 
know  is  that  I  can  sit  down  at  any  clerk's  desk,  take 
up  his  work  where  he  left  it  and  go  on  with  it." 

Presently  he  added  : 

"  I  don't  like  being  at  any  man's  mercy." 

I  remembered  what  I  had  heard  the  managing 
partner  of  a  firm  of  smart  tailors  in  London  say  : 

"  I  sat  four  years  crosslegged  on  a  board  sewing 
coats  and  trousers.  That  is  why  I  am  now  managing 
partner.  If  I  did  not  know  how  every  stitch  ought  to 
be  put  in  I  could  not  check  the  men's  work.  They  are 
all  afraid  of  me  because  I  know,  and  they  know  I 
know." 

Perhaps  I  may  as  well  explain  that  I  am  not  writing 
as  I  do  about  Mr.  Morgan  because  we  are  friends.  I 
have  known  him  a  good  many  years,  but  I  cannot 
claim  more  than  an  acquaintance  with  him  ;  I  hope 
a  friendly  acquaintance,  but  one  which  leaves  me  quite 
free  to  say  what  I  think  ought  to  be  said. 

And  one  thing  I  wish  to  say  is  that  Mr.  Morgan  has 
done  more  than  any  other  American  in  any  such 
position  as  his  to  relieve  us  from  the  reproach  of  caring 
for  money  and  business  and  for  nothing  else.  It  is 
not  merely  that  his  fame  as  a  collector  is  equal  to  his 
fame  as  a  financier.  It  is  that  he  is  known  to  collect 
not  from  ostentation  but  from  real  love  of  art  and 
of  books  and  of  his  other  treasures.  And,  of  course, 
an  intelligent  love.  He  is  not  the  man  to  deal  much 
in  what  he  does  not  understand.  Expert  advice  is 
at  his  call  and,  like  most  private  buyers,  he  must 
sometimes  depend  on  it,  but  of  pictures  and  books 
and  the  like  he  has  a  genuine  knowledge  and  judgment 
of  his  own. 

Only  the  other  day  I  heard  an  interesting  opinion 
on  Mr.  Morgan's  collection,  and  on  Mr.  Morgan,  from 


MR.    PIERPONT   MORGAN  231 

an  expert.  The  expert  in  this  case  was  no  dealer  but 
himself  a  collector,  known  to  every  dealer  as  the  best 
judge  of  values  among  private  buyers  with  a  perhaps 
unequalled  knowledge  of  pictures,  old  silver,  and  many 
other  works  of  art  ;  an  authority  at  Christie's,  and  in 
Bond  Street,  or  other  streets  where  the  feet  of  the 
unwary  tread  sometimes  rashly.    He  said  : 

"  It  is  astonishing  with  what  judgment  Mr.  Morgan 
buys.  His  various  collections  are  collections  of 
masterpieces." 

I  have  heard  it  called  in  question  but  any  such 
doubts  rest  on  separate  instances  and  where  is  the 
collector  who  is  not  sometimes  deceived  ?  The  British 
Museum  itself  was  deceived  about  the  collection  of 
Tanagra  figurines,  long  supposed  to  be  the  finest  in 
Europe,  and  then  one  morning  swept  into  the  cellars, 
where  they  now  repose,  by  the  stern  verdict  of  a  French 
critic.  I  have  heard  of  Mr.  Morgan  buying  for  20,000 
francs  at  Aix-les-Bains  a  collection  of  "  old  "  ivories 
for  which  the  dealer  first  asked  60,000.  For  the 
moment  it  seems  not  to  have  occurred  to  him  that  the 
difference  between  the  asking  price  and  the  price 
taken  was  too  great,  had  they  been  in  fact  old.  No 
man's  business  acumen  is  always  alert.  All  over  Europe 
the  dealers  are  lying  in  wait  for  Mr.  Morgan,  and  well 
he  knows  it  ;  and  well  he  knows  the  truth  of  Talley- 
rand's saying — it  is  quoted  in  Sainte-Beuve's  mono- 
graph on  him — that  everybody's  wit  is  more  than  a 
match  for  anybody's  ;    sometimes. 

Mr.  Morgan  knew  the  late  Baron  Alphonse  de 
Rothschild  and  must,  I  suppose,  have  seen  that  great 
collector's  marvellous  collection  in  the  Rue  St.  Florentin 
in  Paris.  His  was  long  the  first  name  in  Europe  in 
finance,  and  one  of  the  first  as  a  connoisseur.  But 
listen  to  a  little  story  long  told  with  relish  in  art  circles 


232       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

all  over  Europe.  The  Baron  was  looking  at  an  objet 
(Tart  in  a  certain  shop  in  Vienna  which  the  dealer 
pressed  him  to  buy.     Finally  the  Baron  said  : 

"  No.  I  have  no  doubt  you  think  it  all  right  but 
I  am  not  quite  sure,  and  you  know  I  never  admit  into 
my  collection  a  piece  about  the  authenticity  o£  which 
there  is  any  doubt." 

Upon  which  the  dealer  lost  his  temper  : 

"  Monsieur  le  Baron,  I  know  the  contrary.  I  know 
of  five  pieces  in  your  galleries  which  are  not  old  nor 
genuine,  but  modern  copies.  I  know  it  because  I  sold 
them  to  you." 

Nothing  so  tragic  as  that  ever  befell  Mr.  Morgan, 
yet  there  comes  now  and  then  into  the  face  of  a  famous 
dealer  an  expression  from  which  you  infer  he  might 
have  an  anecdote  to  relate  if  he  would.  If  a  man  tells 
you  he  has  never  had  a  fall  in  the  hunting  field,  you 
conclude  he  has  never  ridden  hard  to  hounds.  And 
a  man  who  has  bought  immense  quantities  of  art  works 
in  many  kinds  is  fortunate  if  he  is  misled  only  now 
and  then. 

To  this,  as  to  most  other  rules,  Mr.  Morgan  comes 
as  near  being  an  exception  as  any  man  well  could. 
He  has  fiair  and  he  has  luck.  If  you  do  not  believe 
in  luck  I  will  tell  you  another  story. 

In  the  double  house  at  Prince's  Gate  in  London 
reposed  for  a  long  time  an  imperfect  garniture  de 
cheminee  in  Sevres  of  the  best  period.  The  complete 
set  was  of  five  pieces  and  Mr.  Morgan  had  only  four. 
He  had  ransacked  Europe.  Every  dealer  in  Sevres 
knew  of  it  and  was  on  the  look  out,  but  Mr.  Morgan 
had  relinquished  all  hope  of  finding  the  fifth.  One 
evening  just  before  dinner  the  bell  rang  and  the  servant 
brought  up  a  message  that  a  man  at  the  door  with  a 
parcel  wished  to  see  Mr.  Morgan. 


MR.   PIERPONT   MORGAN  233 

"  Send  him  away,"  was  the  answer.  But  as  the  door 
was  closing  Mr.  Morgan,  from  pure  caprice  or  im- 
pulse as  he  described  it  but  really  from  an  inspira- 
tion, called  the  servant  back  and  told  him  to  bring  up 
the  parcel.  There  at  last  was  the  missing  fifth  piece 
of  the  garniture  de  cheminee.  "  Now  bring  the  man 
up."    He  came. 

"  You  wish  to  sell  this  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  much  ?  " 

The  man  named  the  price.  "  I  was  not  sure,"  said 
Mr.  Morgan,  "  I  had  so  much  money  in  the  house, 
but  the  sum  was  got  together  and  paid  and  a  receipt 
taken."    Then  he  asked  : 

"  Had  you  any  particular  reason  for  bringing  this 
to  me  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  except  that  I  had  heard  of  you  as  a  buyer 
of  good  things  and  this  is  very  fine  Sevres." 

"  Yes,  I  am  aware  of  that.    Good  evening." 

If  that  was  not  luck,  what  was  it  ?  But  "  luck  comes 
to  him  who  with  foresight,  with  patient  courage,  awaits 
his  opportunity."  However  that  may  be,  Mr.  Morgan, 
who  has  had  his  fair  share  of  what  the  gods  have  to 
bestow,  sets  much  store  by  his  completed  set  of  Sevres. 
He  has,  as  every  man  who  buys  much  comes  sooner  or 
later  to  have,  the  love  of  the  chase.  In  a  buyer  devoid 
of  a  love  for  art  this  passion  degenerates  into  an 
appetite  for  mere  acquisition.  Not  so  with  him.  No 
doubt  he  likes,  in  the  phrase  of  an  earlier  buyer, 
"  getting  it  away  from  the  other  fellow,"  but  his  real 
delight  is  not  so  much  in  acquisition  as  in  possession 
and  enjoyment.  And  except  for  the  public  service 
these  rival  accumulators  do  by  rescuing  good  things 
from  destruction,  it  is  this,  and  this  only,  which  makes 
their  ambitions  respectable. 


234       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

III 

There  Is,  however,  one  other  motive  which  makes 
collecting  respectable,  and  that  Is  the  willingness  to 
share  with  the  public.  Mr.  Morgan  Is  a  conspicuous 
Instance  of  that  but  other  Instances  are  Innumerable, 
In  England  most  of  all.  The  Englishman  who  has  a 
fine  place  or  a  fine  gallery  throws  it  open  to  the  public, 
as  a  rule,  once  or  twice  a  week,  and  the  public  tramps 
through  and  gets  as  much  good  from  it  as  It  knows 
how.  He  does  that,  and  from  time  to  time  strips  his 
walls  to  lend  to  the  yearly  Winter  Exhibition  at  the 
Royal  Academy,  which  the  late  Lord  Leighton  origi- 
nated. But  I  can  think  of  no  other  than  Mr.  Morgan 
whose  generosities  of  this  kind  benefit  two  hemi- 
spheres. South  Kensington  In  London  and  the 
Metropolitan  Museum  In  New  York  are  his  debtors 
In  like  degree.  His  gifts  are  many  and  his  loans  are 
almost  gifts. 

There  were  discontented  critics  who  used  to  complain 
that  Mr.  Morgan  left  so  many  of  his  art  possessions  In 
England.  A  late  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  Mr. 
Shaw,  was  one  of  them.    He  said  : 

"  Morgan,  why  don't  you  bring  your  pictures  and 
miniatures  and  the  rest  to  America,  where  the  American 
people  can  have  a  look  at  them  ?  " 

"  I  can't  afford  to." 

"  Well,  I  knew  you  were  a  poor  man  but  I  didn't 
know  you  were  so  poor  as  all  that." 

"  Mr.  Shaw,  how  much  do  you  suppose  your  duties 
on  my  collection  would  amount  to  if  they  passed 
through  the  New  York  Custom  House  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know — perhaps  $200,000  or  $300,000." 

"  At  least  $6,000,000  !  " 

So   the   Secretary   of   the   Treasury   dropped   that 


MR.    PIERPONT    MORGAN  235 

subject.  How  much  the  recent  alteration  in  the 
tariff  on  antiques  might  diminish  these  official  extor- 
tions I  do  not  know,  but  the  reduction  must  be  large. 
It  is  a  moment  which  tempts  one  to  say  something 
about  the  effect  of  the  present  New  York  Collector's 
administration  on  European  opinion,  but  I  pass  on. 
Nor  do  I  see  why  Mr.  Morgan  may  not  be  allowed  to  have 
art  treasures  about  him  in  his  London  home  as  well  as  in 
New  York,  unless  it  should  occur  to  Mr.  Loeb  to  exact 
a  fine  on  the  pictures  their  possessor  does  not  import. 

They  say  Mr.  Morgan  has  put  up  the  price  of 
pictures  in  Europe.  They  said  the  same  thing  of  the 
Rothschilds  when  Lord  Rothschild  and  Baron  Ferdi- 
nand went  into  the  market  for  Gainsboroughs  and  Sir 
Joshuas.  Quite  truly.  Mr.  Alfred  Rothschild  has 
done  much  the  same  thing  for  Paters  and  Lancrets,  as 
Sir  Richard  Wallace  did  before  him  for  Greuzes  and 
Fragonards  and  many  other  masters.  Tring  Park  and 
Waddesdon  and  Halton,  and  the  prices  at  Christie's 
compared  with  the  prices  thirty  years  ago,  are  the 
best  evidences  of  these  competing  influences.  Mr. 
Morgan  has  done  his  share.  He  has  been,  perhaps,  the 
boldest  and  most  persistent  of  them  all.  A  Paris 
dealer,  if  he  is  in  the  mood,  will  tell  you  that  no  very 
long  time  ago  he  parted  with  three  pictures  to  Mr. 
Morgan  at  Mr.  Morgan's  own  price.  There  had  been 
negotiations.  Then,  one  pleasant  morning,  the 
American  walked  into  the  Frenchman's  shop. 

"  I  will  take  those  three  pictures.  I  will  not  buy 
any  one  of  them  separately.  I  will  pay  you  $1,000,000 
for  the  three,  and  they  are  to  be  packed  and  sent  to 
London  at  once.     Good  morning." 

The  story,  I  dare  say,  like  other  stories,  gains  some- 
thing in  the  telling  since  it  is  the  dealer  who  tells  it. 
He  hesitated,  he  says.     He  had  not  sold  the  pictures. 


236       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Mr.  Morgan  had  bought  them.  The  dealer  had  neither 
accepted  nor  refused.  No  payment  had  been  made. 
But  in  the  course  of  the  next  few  days  the  pictures 
were  deUvered  at  Prince's  Gate. 

Mr.  Morgan  is  not  the  type  of  collector  who  collects 
slowly  and  singly  and  tastes  as  he  goes  along.  Not  like 
Sauvageot,  who  on  a  Civil  Service  salary  of  $600  a 
year  left  when  he  died  works  of  art  valued  at  $600,000, 
now  in  the  Louvre,  to  which  he  bequeathed  them  at 
half  price.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  like  Chauchard, 
who  seems  to  have  made  his  picture  buying  a  means  of 
advertising  his  shop.  Mr.  Morgan  has  his  own  ideas 
and  methods.  He  is  Morgan  and  nobody  else.  His 
range  is  perhaps  wider  than  anybody's  else.  In  pic- 
tures and  many  other  art-works  the  late  Sir  Richard 
Wallace  may  have  rivalled  him.  Hertford  House 
to-day  contains,  I  suppose,  the  most  miscellaneous 
private  collection  in  Europe  ;  everything  first  rate  in 
its  kind,  even  including  armour.  But  of  Mr.  Morgan 
this  may  be  said.    He  has : 

One  of  the  finest  private  collections  of  pictures  in 
the  world,  and  beyond  question  finer  than  any  other 
American  owner's. 

The  finest  collection  of  miniatures. 

The  finest  collection  of  glass. 

The  finest  collection  of  such  porcelain  as  he  cares  for. 

The  finest  collection  of  modern  authors'  manu- 
scripts. 

And  the  finest  private  library  in  the  world,  of  which 
the  manuscripts  are  part. 

If  there  was  an  exception  to  this  last  statement  it 
was  the  late  Due  d'Aumale's  library,  in  the  Domaine 
of  Chantilly.  But  that  is  no  longer  private  for  it 
is  now  dedicated  to  public  uses.  In  his  lifetime  the 
Duke  would  show  it  to  anybody  who  seemed  interested 


MR.   PIERPONT   MORGAN  237 

in  rare  and  beautiful  books.  But  he  had  his  own  way 
of  showing  it.  He  stood  by  you.  The  books  were  in 
glass  cases,  locked.  If  you  asked  to  see  a  particular 
book  he  unlocked  the  case,  took  down  the  book, 
opened  and  turned  it  over  for  you  to  see  ;  or  showed 
you  the  binding  and  discoursed  on  that.  Into  your 
hands  the  book  never  passed.  Mr.  Morgan  has  no 
Domaine  of  Chantilly,  nor  has  America  anything  like 
it,  but  he  has  built  next  to  his  Madison  Avenue  house 
a  white  marble  gem  of  a  library  which  of  itself  ought 
to  have  been  included  in  the  list  above  of  the  finest 
things  possessed  by  the  private  collector.  The  late 
Mr.  Miller  McKim  was  the  architect  of  it,  whom  I 
will  venture  to  call  the  first  architect  of  his  time  in 
America  ;  one  of  the  first  and  most  accomplished  any- 
where. He  put  his  best  talent  and  his  art  genius  at 
Mr.  Morgan's  service. 

It  was  said  of  Richard  Heber  that  he  did  not  buy 
books  ;  he  bought  libraries.  It  is  not  the  best  way, 
but  it  may  sometimes  be  the  only  way  for  a  man  whose 
life  is  crowded  with  multifarious  interests.  Certainly 
Mr.  Morgan  made  no  mistake  when  he  bought  the 
Gosford  library.  Of  this  he  had  an  illustrated  cata- 
logue made,  privately  printed,  in  large  quarto,  192 
pages,  bound  in  levant  morocco,  gros  graifi,  by  the 
"  Club  Bindery  "  ;  curiously  lettered  on  the  back, 
"  ].  P.  Morgan  Library.  J.  Toovey  Collection  "  ; 
in  separate  panels  ;  and  at  the  bottom,  "  New  York, 
1 90 1."  I  ought  not  to  criticize,  for  my  copy  of  this 
beautiful  volume  is  a  gift  from  Mr.  Morgan.  Nor 
is  there  much  to  criticize.  The  title  runs  thus  : 
"  Catalogue  of  a  Collection  of  Books  formed  by  James 
Toovey,  principally  from  the  Library  of  the  Earl  of 
Gosford.  The  property  of  J.  Pierpont  Morgan,  New 
York,  1 901."    Which  is  not  quite  correct.    The  truth 


238       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

is  that  the  late  Mr.  James  Toovey,  a  Piccadilly  book- 
seller of  none  too  savoury  renown,  bought  the  Gosford 
Library  en  bloc.  This  is  sufficiently  stated  in  the  Pre- 
face. He  added  other  books  and  the  whole  was  sold 
to  Mr.  Morgan  by  the  son  of  Mr.  Toovey  ;  I  imagine, 
with  the  condition  that  the  bookseller's  name  should 
be  given. 

The  Aldines  are  "  alphabetized "  by  themselves, 
and  most  of  the  Aldine  rarities  are  there  ;  the  rare 
first  Aldine  Horace,  1501,  the  much  rarer  first  Virgil, 
1 50 1,  perhaps  rarest  of  all  Aldines  in  fine  condition  ; 
the  first  Homer,  1504,  and  many  more  ;  for  the  most 
part  fine  copies  though  some  are  in  modern  bindings. 
They  fill  Gy  pages  ;  the  remaining  125  are  devoted  to 
books  in  general  literature.  The  descriptions  are  con- 
cise, not  always  so  full  as  one  would  like  but  done 
with  a  precision  rare  if  not  unique  in  English  book 
catalogues  on  a  French  model.  The  coloured  illus- 
trations of  bindings,  I  take  it,  are  also  French,  prob- 
ably by  Danel  of  Lille.  I  know  of  no  English  artist 
who  can  reproduce  as  Danel  does  the  tones  and  the 
very  texture  and  surface  of  old  morocco  and  old 
gilding.  As  a  whole,  this  catalogue  is  so  excellent  that 
the  production  of  it  may  be  ranked  among  Mr.  Mor- 
gan's many  contributions  to  the  art-education  of  his 
countrymen. 

Here  again  it  is  true  that  Mr.  Morgan  follows  the 
golden  rule  of  buying  what  he  likes  and  understands. 
Listen  to  him  as  he  talks  and  you  will  be  in  no  doubt. 
If  he  thinks  you  care  for  such  things  he  will  begin  on 
manuscripts  or  books  or  pictures  in  those  hours  when 
a  man  unburdens  his  soul ;  hours  of  leisure  which 
most  business  men  consecrate  to  business  and  he  does 
not.  I  have  heard  him,  and  know.  If  you  have  a 
subject  of  your  own  you  will  very  likely  find  it  is  his 


MR.    PIERPONT    MORGAN  239 

subject  also,  and  he  is  ready  to  meet  you.  But  the  hour 
or  two  after  dinner  offers  a  choice  of  opportunities. 
If  his  hostess  prefers  bridge  he  will  play  bridge  ;  well, 
but  not  too  well.  Except  Mr.  W.  K.  Vanderbilt,  I 
can  think  of  no  great  bridge  player  who  is  great  in 
other  matters  also.  They  say  Mr.  Morgan  does  not  like 
losing.  Who  does  ?  In  the  game  of  life  it  is  his  habit 
to  win.  True,  one  ornament  of  the  English  peerage 
might  be  named  who  inherited  a  few  years  ago  a  con- 
siderable fortune,  of  which  the  first  half  is  already  gone, 
at  baccarat,  trente-et-quarante,  and  in  other  not  less 
easy  ways.  But  when  he  has  had  a  bad  night  he  says, 
"  Yes,  but  I  have  had  a  good  gamble,"  and  goes  to 
bed  content. 

When  I  think  a  little  about  Mr.  Morgan  I  remem- 
ber what  the  late  Mr.  W.  H.  Vanderbilt  said  to  Mr. 
Mills.  Mr.  Vanderbilt  had  recently  made  some 
twenty  odd  millions  in  a  single  "  deal  "  in  Wall  Street  ; 
probably  risking  his  whole  fortune  to  do  it.  Mr.  Mills 
said  : 

"  You  seem  to  like  making  money,  Mr.  Vanderbilt." 

The  railway  king  of  that  day  reflected  and  answered  : 

"  No,  I  don't  know  that  I  do,  particularly." 

The  next  time  they  met  Mr.  Vanderbilt  remarked  : 

"  I  have  been  turning  over  what  you  said,  Mr.  Mills, 

and  I  don't  even  now  think  I  care  much  about  money, 

but  I  admit  I  like  to  see  a  good  balance-sheet  at  the 

end  of  the  year." 

I  do  not  ask  whether  Mr.  Morgan  does,  for,  if  I 
understand  him  at  all,  what  he  cares  for  is  power. 
He  is  by  nature  a  king  of  men,  and  the  authority  of  a 
king,  or  in  these  days  of  an  Emperor  with  a  moustache, 
is  what  he  likes  to  possess  and  use. 

He  and  the  Emperor  with  the  moustache  have  met. 
It  would  be  interesting  to  know  what  each  thought  of 


240       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

the  other,  but  one  of  the  two  is  a  man  who  keeps  his 
private  thoughts  to  himself  and  the  other's  views 
are  not  for  publication.  They  say  the  German 
Emperor  knows  a  man  when  he  sees  him.  Mr.  Morgan 
has  an  imperial  authority  of  his  own,  an  ascendancy 
neither  of  divine  right  nor  by  any  process  of  election. 
All  the  same,  he  reigns  and  rules.  President  Roose- 
velt, in  the  plenitude  of  his  autocratic  power,  mea- 
sured himself  against  the  Wall  Street  financier  and  it 
was  not  the  President  who  had  the  best  of  that  en- 
counter. Mr.  Morgan's  services  to  his  country  have 
not  been  primarily  political,  though  he  has  been  known 
to  take  a  hand  in  that  game  when  not  occupied  with 
things  more  important.  But  the  services  have  none 
the  less  been  services ;  frequent,  far-reaching,  benefi- 
cent. His  is  the  kind  of  patriotism  which  dispenses 
with  publicity.  He  does  not  seem  to  believe  in  that 
government  by  newspapers  on  which  Jefferson  set  so 
high  a  value  ;  though  he  is  said  to  consider  a  news- 
paper a  useful  instrument  of  finance.  Alone,  or  al- 
most alone,  among  men  foremost  in  public  life  he 
refuses  to  be  "  interviewed."  The  reporters  never 
cease  to  pursue  him  and  their  reward  is  the  pleasure 
of  pursuit.  Never  a  word  falls  from  his  lips.  If  he 
wishes  to  influence  the  market  he  has  other  means. 
To  public  opinion  he  makes  no  appeal,  or  none  by  the 
usual  methods.  It  is  not  necessary  to  ask  whether  any 
force  in  the  world's  finance  has  been  equal  to  his.  It 
is  sufficient  to  say  that  in  no  man's  hands  has  rested 
the  control  of  such  vast  money  resources ;  the  abso- 
lute control  and  freedom  to  use  so  many  hundreds  of 
millions.  That  position  he  created.  His  power  is 
personal.  It  was  not  inherited.  It  cannot  be  be- 
queathed. It  must  die  with  him  but  the  memory  of  it 
will  never  die. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

MR.  ANDREW  CARNEGIE 

I 

MR.    CARNEGIE    AND    HIS    DEAL    WITH 
MR.    PIERPONT    MORGAN 

A  NOTE  arrived  early  one  morning  which  ran 
-^^  thus  : 

"  If  you  will  come  to  lunch  at  1.30  to-day  I  shall 
have  something  to  tell  you  which  I  think  you  may  like 
to  hear.— A.  C." 

I  went  and  found  Mr.  Carnegie  alone.  He  was 
living  at  the  time  in,  I  think,  West  55th  Street.  I  say 
I  think  because  I  never  felt  it  possible  to  be  sure  of 
an  address  in  New  York  without  referring  to  one  of 
those  extremely  expensive  directories  or  registers  for 
which  the  New  York  public  joyfully  pays  fantastic 
prices.  A  London  Court  Guide  or  Royal  Blue  Book 
costs  five  shillings,  the  equivalent  of  $1.25.  The 
corresponding  Social  Register  in  New  York,  containing 
much  less  matter,  is  published  at  $5.  Perhaps  because 
the  apparently  simple  but  really  complicated  system 
of  street  numbering  makes  it  an  article  of  necessity. 
Mr.  Halstcad  used  to  say  : 

"  I  never  know  your  address.  Sometimes  I  can 
remember  the  number  of  your  street,  and  sometimes 
the  number  of  your  house,  but  I  can  never  remember 
the  two  together  at  the  same  time." 

When  Mr.  Carnegie's  note  came  I  was  living  in 
rooms  at  the  Renaissance,  an  apartment  house  which 
R  241 


242       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

was,  I  believe,  at  the  corner  of  Fifth  Avenue  and 
West  43rd  Street  ;  unless  it  was  East  43rd  Street ;  or 
perhaps  East  or  West  45th  Street.  But  at  the  time  I 
knew,  and  nearly  always  remembered  where  I  lived, 
and  I  knew  where  Mr.  Carnegie  lived  because  I  had 
been  there  pretty  often,  and  his  address  was  on  the 
top  of  his  notepaper. 

All  this  may  seem  in  the  nature  of  a  stage  aside, 
but  is  really  very  pertinent  to  my  story,  since  my  story 
deals  with  figures,  and  since  Mr.  Carnegie  had  not 
then  built  himself  that  great  barracks  of  a  house  be- 
tween 90th  and  91st  Streets,  in  Fifth  Avenue,  or 
between  91st  and  92nd,  or  some  other  streets  out  of 
the  arithmetic.  He  and  lunch  were  waiting  when  I 
came  in,  and  he  began  at  once  ;  like  the  man  of 
business  he  is  and  always  has  been  : 

"  I  have  sold  the  Homestead  Works  and  all  my  steel 
interests  to  Pierpont  Morgan." 

There  had  been  rumours  for  some  days  of  an  im- 
pending "  deal,"  but  the  surprise  was  none  the  less 
complete.  Mr.  Carnegie,  always  mindful  of  effects 
and  impressions,  regarded  with  evident  pleasure  the 
look  of  amazement  there  must  have  been  on  my  face. 
Amazement  because  Mr.  Carnegie  and  Pittsburg  and 
the  steel  industry  had  always  seemed  to  us  all  identical, 
or  indissolubly  bound  up  each  with  the  other.  And 
here  was  Mr.  Pierpont  Morgan  coming  in  like  a  divorce 
court  judge  to  put  asunder  those  whom  circumstances 
and  long  years  had  joined  together. 

Mr.  Carnegie  went  on  with  his  story  as  we  lunched. 
At  that  time  it  was  all  new,  of  course.  So  much  of  it 
has  since  become  known  that  I  need  not  go  very  far 
into  those  figures  which,  as  I  said  before,  I  find^  so 
perplexing.  I  will  sum  it  all  up  in  one  of  those 
tremendous  sentences  which,  though  they  stupefy  the 


MR.    ANDREW   CARNEGIE  243 

ordinary  mind,  are  so  much  mother's  milk  to  a  man 
Hke  Carnegie,  accustomed  to  think  in  milHons.  He  said  : 

"  I  suppose  you  would  like  to  know  the  price.  I 
have  sold  at  a  price  which  secures  to  me  a  yearly  in- 
come, from  this  source  alone,  of  -^3,250,000." 

The  world  spun  round  as  he  named  the  sum.  It  is 
always  spinning  round,  but  it  spun  a  little  faster  than 
usual  for  a  minute  or  two.  Mr.  Carnegie,  you  will 
observe,  thinks  not  only  in  millions  but  in  sterling. 
To  that  extent  he  has  remained  a  British  subject.  In 
dollars  the  figure  of  his  yearly  income  works  out, 
roundly,  at  $16,250,000.  Needless  to  say  that  there 
has  been  in  all  the  history  of  the  world  no  other  such 
fortune  purely  industrial. 

I  asked  whether  the  transaction  was  complete. 

"  Practically,  yes.  But  no  papers  have  passed.  It 
takes  time  to  prepare  papers.  But  Mr.  Morgan  and  I 
talked  the  thing  over  yesterday  and  came  to  terms." 

Then,  still  with  an  eye  to  stage  management,  Mr. 
Carnegie  paused  ;   then  added  : 

"  There  is  nothing  in  writing.  Everything  between 
us  has  been  by  word  of  mouth." 

"  But  you  must  have  put  a  few  figures  on  paper,  if 
nothing  else." 

"  No,  not  one.  If  either  of  us  should  die  to-night 
the  deal  would  be  off." 

Happily,  neither  of  them  did  die  that  night.  The 
agreement  was  put  in  legal  shape.  The  papers  of  the 
Steel  Corporation  were  also  put  in  legal  shape  by  Mr. 
Victor  Morawctz  and  Mr.  Lynde  Stetson.  It  took 
them  just  eleven  days  to  do  it.  Unless  one  of  the  two 
should  object,  I  will  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  I  was  told 
afterward,  on  authority  it  would  not  be  easy  to  dis- 
pute, that  their  fee  for  these  eleven  days'  work  was 
$500,000.     I   dare  say  that  seems  moderate  in  New 


244       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

York,  where  legal  services  are  paid  at  a  rate,  and  in  a 
manner,  unknown  in  London.  But  when  I  have  told 
the  story  in  London  it  has  not  always  been  believed. 

Even  when  I  explain  that  Mr.  Morawetz  and  Mr. 
Stetson  are  at  the  summit  of  their  profession  the 
Londoner  is  still  incredulous.  Then  I  am  driven  to 
explain  further  that  one  reason  for  the  great  sums 
paid  to  these  gentlemen  and  to  Mr.  Olney  and  to  Mr. 
Root  and  others  of  that  rank — there  are  not  many — is 
that  the  deeds  they  draw  are  in  fact  insurance  policies  ; 
that  the  great  corporations  are  willing  to  pay  great 
prices  because  it  is  understood  that  the  instruments 
thus  framed  are  to  go  through  the  fire  of  litigation  and 
come  out  unscathed.  To  a  still  sceptical  Englishman 
I  have  sometimes  quoted  the  saying  of  a  great  financier 
in  New  York,  whose  name  you  will  search  these  pages 
for  in  vain  : 

"  When  we  put  a  new  enterprise  on  the  market  the 
difficulty  is  not  in  finding  the  capital  but  in  keeping 
inside  the  law." 

A  memorable  declaration  even  when  you  put  wholly 
aside,  as  of  course  we  all  do,  all  the  sinister  meanings 
to  which  the  words  lend  themselves. 

It  was,  I  understood,  Mr.  Morgan  who  had  pro- 
posed to  buy,  and  not  Mr.  Carnegie  who  had  proposed 
to  sell.  It  may  not  much  matter.  Their  minds  met 
with  the  ease  natural  to  men  to  whom  great  affairs  and 
quick  decisions  and  all-embracing  views  of  complicated 
questions  are  of  daily  occurrence.  Whenever  anything 
has  to  be  said  of  Mr.  Morgan,  whom  I  put  among  the 
really  great  men  I  have  known,  this  transaction  must 
ever  be  reckoned  high  up  among  those  on  which  his 
immense  fame  is  built.  There  have  been,  I  suppose, 
moments  in  the  history  of  the  United  States  Steel 
Corporation  when  the  outside  world — or  shall  I  say 


MR.    ANDREW   CARNEGIE  245 

Wall  Street  ? — considered  that  Mr.  Carnegie  had  the 
best  of  this  deal.  Fleeting  moments  which  now  belong 
to  history  and  connect  themselves  with  many  outside 
circumstances. 

There  was,  at  any  rate,  as  I  talked  with  Mr.  Carnegie, 
no  sign  of  exultation  in  the  sense  of  having  got  the 
better  of  Mr.  Morgan.  These  two  great  powers  had 
met  and  made  a  treaty,  a  treaty  which  involved  neither 
surrender  nor  discredit.  There  are  such  treaties. 
Franklin,  prone  to  epigrams  and  proud  of  his  diplo- 
macy, said  in  his  letter  to  Josiah  Quincy,  "  There 
never  was  a  good  war  or  a  bad  peace."  But  that  is  a 
professional  opinion ;  the  sort  of  thing  that  Mr. 
Bright  also  used  to  say  ;  not  an  historical  statement 
but  a  pious  aspiration.  Mr.  Bright  was  less  sweeping 
than  Franklin.    He  said  to  me  : 

"  There  has  been  no  just  war  since  William  III, 
except  your  war  for  the  Union,  and  that  was  forced 
on  you." 

In  Franklin's  mind  lurked  the  thought  that  peace 
and  not  war  was  the  work  and  the  object  of  diplomacy. 
But  it  is  by  no  means  always  so. 

Mr.  Carnegie  continued  : 

"  I  take  bonds  in  payment  ;  5  per  cent  bonds 
secured  upon  the  entire  property  of  all  the  seven 
corporations  [afterward  eight]  which  merge  in  the 
Steel  Corporation.  I  think  I  know  pretty  well  what 
they  are  all  worth,  and  if  there's  a  better  security  any- 
where than  my  mortgage  will  be  I  don't  know  where." 

It  may  be  noted  that  one  of  the  parties  to  this  great 
bargain  was  a  man  of  Wall  Street.  Mr.  Carnegie,  of 
course,  is  not,  and  he  is  sometimes  quoted  as  not  liking 
Wall  Street  or  its  methods.     I  have  heard  him  say  : 

"  Bring  me  your  money  and  I  will  give  you  5  per 
cent  for  it.     Don't  speculate.     I  have  never  bought  a 


246       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

share  or  stock  for  the  rise  nor  sold  for  the  fall.  It  is  an 
agreement  with  my  partners  that  no  one  of  them  shall 
speculate." 

So  it  is  evident  he  is  not  a  prepossessed  witness  in 
favour  of  any  of  the  Wall  Street  group.  But  when  I 
said  to  him,  "  You  trust  Morgan's  word,"  he  answered  : 

"  Yes,  but  Morgan  is  Morgan." 

And  perhaps  even  Mr.  Roosevelt,  who  admits,  or 
did  admit,  that  there  are  good  trusts  as  well  as  bad 
trusts,  would  admit,  or  would  once  have  admitted, 
that  there  are  men  in  Wall  Street  to  whom  honour 
and  good  faith  and  business  probity  mean  what  they 
mean  to  men  elsewhere. 

It  was  evident  that  much  of  what  Mr.  Carnegie 
said  to  me  was  intended  to  be  cabled  to  The  Times,  and 
that  some  of  it  was  not  meant  to  be  was  equally  evi- 
dent. When  I  said  so  to  him  he  answered  in  almost 
the  very  words  Prince  Bismarck  had  used  in  similar 
circumstances  : 

"  It  is  for  you  to  distinguish." 

But  as  this  was  a  matter  of  business  and  figures,  I 
said  to  Mr.  Carnegie  I  would  send  him  a  copy  of  my 
dispatch  to  look  at  before  it  went.  I  sent  it  at  four 
o'clock  by  messenger,  asking  him  to  let  me  have  it 
before  six,  the  hour  at  which,  as  a  rule,  long  dispatches 
to  London  had  to  be  filed,  six  in  New  York  being  eleven 
at  night  in  London.  It  came  back  at  4.30,  with  an 
inscription  at  the  bottom  : 

"  O.  K.— A.  C." 

Which  I  thought  so  interesting  that  I  kept  the 
original  and  handed  a  copy  to  the  cable  messenger. 
And  I  imagine  there  has  seldom  been  a  business  dis- 
patch which  has  so  stirred  the  business  world  of  London 
as  this  account  of  the  great  treaty  between  Mr. 
Morgan  and  Mr.  Carnegie. 


MR.    ANDREW   CARNEGIE  247 


II 


MR.    CARNEGIE    AS    CAPTAIN    OF    INDUSTRY,    AS    APOSTLE 
OF    PEACE,    AND    OTHERWISE 

Deep  down  in  the  hearts  of  most  men  lurk  super- 
stitions about  their  fellow-men  whose  good  fortune, 
or  what  seems  to  them  such,  is  above  the  average. 
The  belief  in  wizardry  of  one  kind  or  another  has 
never  died  out.  With  respect  to  Mr.  Carnegie 
it  took  a  form  which  perhaps  did  not  wholly  dis- 
please him,  since  it  tended  to  establish  a  belief  in 
his  omniscience.  It  was  said  of  him,  for  example, 
that  he  knew  all  about  metallurgy,  chemistry, 
mechanics,  and  other  sciences  and  processes  which 
had  to  do  with  the  making  of  steel.  I  asked  him, 
at  a  favourable  moment,  whether  this  was  true 
or  how  far  true.    He  answered  : 

"  It  is  not  true  at  all.  I  know  nothing  about 
any  of  these  matters.  That  is,  I  have  no  exact  know- 
ledge on  which  I  should  build  an  opinion  or  judgment 
of  my  own  and  act  on  it.  The  secret  of  my  method 
and  my  success  is  simple.  I  organize  my  business 
into  departments.  I  put  the  best  man  I  can  find 
at  the  head  of  each  department,  hold  him  responsible, 
and  judge  him  by  results.  And  I  think  the  results 
prove  that  I  have  been  a  pretty  good  judge  of  men." 

I  once  put  a  similar  question  to  Mr.  Picrpont 
Morgan  but  that  will  be  found  in  its  place  else- 
where. Mr.  Carnegie's  system  was  a  good  system  so 
long  as  he  was  at  the  head  of  it.  He  had  a  directing 
mind  and  a  deciding  power,  both  in  a  supreme  degree  ; 
qualities  for  want  of  which  many  a  business  goes  to 
pieces.      What    happened    when    he    left    the    steel 


248       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

business  to  take  care  o£  itself  may  be  seen  from 
the  account  I  am  going  to  quote  ;  an  account,  it 
should  be  understood,  which  relates  to  the  early 
days  of  the  Steel  Corporation.  Mr.  Carnegie  had 
asked  me  to  go  with  him  as  his  guest  to  a  St.  Andrew's 
dinner  in  New  York,  over  which  he  was  to  preside. 
He  there  introduced  me  to  one  of  those  heads  of 
departments  above  mentioned  ;  an  appointee  of  his 
own.  I  have  forgotten  both  the  name  of  this  gentle- 
man and  the  name  of  his  department,  and  the  story 
is  better  without  either.  He  talked  to  me  for  a  long 
time  about  the  Homestead  Works,  and  how  and  why 
the  business  had  prospered.  His  story  bore  out  what 
Mr.  Carnegie  had  said,  and  strengthened  it.  As  you 
listened  to  him  you  could  not  doubt  that  Mr.  Car- 
negie was  the  soul  and  source  of  its  prosperity.  Finally 
I  asked  him  how  things  were  going  under  the  new 
Corporation.  He  gave  me  an  answer  which  I  thought 
striking  : 

"  They  are  not  going  quite  so  well,  and  I  will 
tell  you  why.  The  business  formerly  had  one  head, 
one  executive  authority.  Now  it  has  several.  In 
the  old  days  a  message  would  come  from  Mr.  Car- 
negie that  he  wanted  to  see  me,  or  perhaps  I  had 
a  scheme  in  my  head  which  I  wanted  to  submit  to 
him.  I  will  give  you  as  an  illustration  a  department 
with  which  I  had  nothing  to  do. 

"  I  had  become  convinced  that  we  wanted,  let 
us  say,  a  new  wharf  and  warehouses  at  the  port. 
When  I  went  to  Mr.  Carnegie  I  went  with  a  complete 
statement  of  reasons  ;  with  plans  and  estimates  also 
complete.  I  stated  my  case  and  laid  the  papers  before 
him.  He  was  a  good  listener,  but  asked  questions  at 
the  critical  points  and  the  answers  had  to  be  ready. 
When   I   had   finished   he   said  :    '  Leave   the   papers 


MR.    ANDREW    CARNEGIE  249 

and  come  to-morrow  morning  at  ten  o'clock.'  At 
ten  o'clock  next  morning  he  said  yes  or  no.  If  yes, 
he  expected  the  work  to  be  begun  at  once.  I  was  in 
charge,  and  there  would  be  no  occasion  to  trouble 
Mr.  Carnegie  again  until  I  was  in  a  position  to  ask 
him  to  inspect  the  completed  wharf  and  warehouses. 

"  Whereas  now,  I  must  lay  my  proposal,  as  a  pro- 
posal, before  the  manager,  who  in  turn  lays  it  before 
the  local  board  of  directors,  who  in  their  turn  lay 
it  before  the  general  board  at  New  York,  who  con- 
sider it  at  their  next  meeting,  whenever  that  may  be. 
All  this  may  take  three  or  four  weeks  or  more,  the 
necessity  all  the  while  urgent  in  the  face  of  competition 
and  the  time  lost  much  diminishing  the  competitive 
value  of  the  improvement.  But  this  is  the  routine 
through  which  every  important  proposal  has  now  to 
pass.  There  is  not  a  man  of  us  who  would  not  like 
to  have  Mr.  Carnegie  back  again." 

Whether  this  narrative  may  help  explain  why 
Steel  common  at  a  certain  moment  stood  at  eight,  I 
cannot  say,  nor  whether  a  return  to  Mr.  Carnegie's 
methods  had  anything  to  do  with  its  rise  later,  or 
the  immense  prosperity  to  which  the  new  concern 
presently  attained.  The  story  interested  me,  and  is 
told  to  you  as  a  tribute  to  Mr.  Carnegie. 

It  is,  I  suppose,  since  Mr.  Carnegie  retired  from 
the  steel-making  business  that  the  world  has  heard 
most  of  the  steel-maker.  His  libraries,  his  later  gifts 
of  great  sums  of  money  to  other  objects,  his  apostle- 
ships,  his  dual  existence  in  Scotland  and  in  the  United 
States,  and,  last  of  all,  his  ten  millions  to  promote, 
or  for  aught  I  know  to  estabhsh,  the  peace  of  the 
world — all  these  are  so  many  jets  of  limelight  turned 
one  after  the  other  on  a  figure  in  the  centre  of  the 
stage.     I  shall  have  nothing  to  say  about  any  of  them 


250       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

except  where  I  happen  to  have  known  something 
not  of  common  knowledge.  I  did  at  one  time  mean 
to  write  an  article  on  Mr.  Carnegie  in  one  of  the 
English  reviews,  and  asked  him  for  material.  He 
kindly  sent  me  a  large  parcel  of  books  and  I  know  not 
what  else.  But  on  considering  the  matter  I  gave 
up  this  plan  and  left  the  parcel  of  books  unopened. 
It  remains  unopened.  I  found  that  my  article  would 
be  too  critical,  or  more  critical  than  I  wanted  or 
meant  it  to  be.  I  admire  Mr.  Carnegie's  capacity 
for  enthusiasm,  but  his  enthusiasms  are  not  mine. 
There  are  few  great  public  questions  on  which  I  have 
been  able  to  agree  with  him,  nor  can  I  see  any  clear 
sign  that  the  English  public  or  the  American  public 
agrees  with  him  or  is  disposed  to  accept  his  leadership. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  Mr.  Carnegie  was  taken 
seriously  in  England  as  a  teacher.  I  am  not  sure 
that  that  time  has  yet  arrived.  Even  the  splendid 
list  of  ambassadors  and  other  public  officers  whom 
he  has  secured  as  trustees  for  his  Peace  Fund  does 
not  convince  Englishmen  that  his  is  anything  more 
than  a  counsel  of  perfection ;  a  pious  opinion.  The 
English  have  made  their  way  in  the  world  and  built 
the  British  Empire  by  hard  fighting.  When  Mr. 
Carnegie  tells  them  that  war  is  barbaric  they  ask  : 
"  Was  Wellington  a  barbarian  ?  Was  Nelson  .?  Was 
Clive  ?  Is  Kitchener  ?  "  They  will  do  what  they 
can  to  keep  the  peace  in  the  future,  but  they  do  not 
care  to  renounce  their  heroes  nor  their  history. 
They  approve  of  arbitration  in  some  things,  but 
there  are  certain  questions  they  will  never,  no  matter 
what  treaties  they  sign,  submit  to  arbitration,  and 
if  challenged  on  vital  matters  they  will  neither  submit 
them  to  arbitration  nor  will  they  surrender,  but  will 
fight  ;  and  fight  as  hard  as  ever  they  did,  and  as  well. 


MR.   ANDREW    CARNEGIE  251 

Mr.  Carnegie  cannot  change  human  nature,  nor 
turn  a  warHke  race  into  htigants  at  The  Hague. 

Mr.  Gladstone,  a  great  name  often  in  Mr.  Car- 
negie's mouth,  was  supposed  to  wish  for  peace, 
and  no  doubt  did.  But  there  were  other  things 
he  wished  for  more.  His  notion  of  peace  was  to 
be  ready  for  war.  Why  did  he  ask  the  House  of 
Commons  to  vote  six  miUions  sterHng  in  1870  when 
Belgium  was  thought  to  be  menaced  ?  Why  did  he 
ask  for  ^11,000,000  at  the  time  of  the  Penjdeh 
quarrel  with  Russia,  and  tell  the  House  "  the  book 
is  not  yet  closed  "  ?  And  what  did  he  mean  to  do 
with  the  money  which  the  House  voted  unanimously  ? 

Lord  Morley  has  always  been  a  great  authority 
with  Mr.  Carnegie.     He  said  : 

"  Don't  make  any  mistake.  Mr.  Gladstone  is 
anything  but  a  peace-at-any-price  Minister.  He 
will  fight  as  readily  as  Palmerston  or  Pitt,  though 
perhaps  for  different  objects  ;  and  once  in  for  a  war, 
he  would  fight  to  the  end." 

And  I  should  say  of  Lord  Morley  himself  what 
he  said  of  Gladstone.  That  same  Penjdeh  incident 
proved  it.  True,  it  was  arranged  and  there  was  no 
war,  though  for  some  weeks  the  two  great  empires 
stood  on  the  brink  of  war.  But  when  the  Emperor 
of  Russia  gave  a  jewelled  sword  to  General  Komaroff, 
who  had  been  the  chief  agent  in  that  perfidious 
aggression,  Mr.  Morley  was  asked  how  he  liked  it, 
and  answered  : 

"  Like  it  ?  I  should  like  to  cram  his  jewelled  sword 
down  his  Russian  throat." 

Strong  language  ?  It  is.  But  the  language  actually 
used  was  stronger  still.  And  I  never  liked  Morley 
better  nor  respected  him  more  than  when  he  used 
it.     It   would   not   prevent   him   from   being  one  of 


252       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Mr.  Carnegie's  Peace  Trustees,  but  it  would  prevent 
him  from  tying  his  hands  by  any  pledge  meant  to 
restrict  his  right  of  appealing  in  all  circumstances  to 
the  ultima  ratio  of  war.  Make  it  as  infrequent  as 
possible  but  you  can  never  make  it  impossible ; 
that,  I  think,  would  be  Lord  Morley's  answer  to  his 
Scotch-American  friend. 

I  have  long  known  Lord  Morley  and  Mr.  Carnegie 
as  friends ;  a  friendship,  like  so  many  others,  cemented 
by  unlikenesses  ;  the  friendship  of  a  man  of  business 
for  a  scholar  ;  of  a  man  of  impulses  for  a  patient 
thinker  bent  on  going  to  the  bottom  of  things ;  of  a 
strongly  self-confident  man  for  a  man  alike  of  singular 
modesty  and  invincible  convictions.  Lord  Morley's 
influence  over  Mr.  Carnegie  is,  as  it  was  over  Mr. 
Gladstone,  intellectual.  Mr.  Gladstone  recognized 
a  kindred  spirit.  He  could  appreciate  as  few  could 
the  extraordinary  range  and  precision  of  Morley's 
knowledge  and  the  use  he  made  of  his  mind.  Mr. 
Carnegie's  recognition  of  these  qualities  was  less 
complete  than  Mr.  Gladstone's,  and  I  rather  imagine 
he  supposed  Lord  Morley  his  pupil  in  politics ; 
which  was  not  quite  so.  I  remember  an  instance. 
There  was  a  crisis  in  Westminster  as  to  which  Mr. 
Carnegie  held  strong  views ;  as  he  did  on  most  sub- 
jects whether  he  had  found  time  to  think  them 
completely  out  or  not.  Morley  was  in  Russia.  Mr. 
Carnegie  telegraphed  him  very  urgently. 

"  But,"  said  Mr.  Carnegie,  in  a  tone  of  surprised 
dismay,  "  I  cannot  make  Morley  understand  how 
important  it  is  he  should  return  at  once  and  take  his 
proper  part  in  this  contest.  Still  less  can  I  under- 
stand his  reluctance  to  accept  my  view." 

A  little  anecdote  which  gives  you  a  glimpse,  not 
complete  but  clear  of  both  men. 


MR.    ANDREW   CARNEGIE  253 

It  was  Mr.  Carnegie's  desire  that  Mr.  Morley, 
some  years  ago,  should  come  to  America  and  explain 
to  the  American  people  what  they  ought  to  think 
about  "  Progress "  and  other  related  topics.  He 
asked  Morley  to  come  as  his  guest,  and  Morley, 
though  certainly  taking  a  less  didactic  view  of  his 
mission,  accepted  Mr.  Carnegie's  invitation  and 
came.  There  was  a  celebration  at  the  opening,  I 
think,  of  the  Institute  at  Pittsburg,  and  before  a 
Pittsburg  audience  Mr.  Morley  delivered  his  address. 
It  was  a  piece  of  high  thinking.  The  people  of 
Pittsburg,  having  resolved  to  take  serious  views 
of  life — of  intellectual  and  art  life  as  well  as  of  in- 
dustry and  business — welcomed  Mr.  Morley,  of  whom 
some  had  heard  before  and  all  now  heard  from  Mr. 
Carnegie  whose  dictatorship  in  the  Iron  City  was 
irresistible.  They  duly  applauded  the  orator, 
and  it  was  plain  that  the  dictator  had  chosen  his  man 
wisely. 

But  Mr.  Carnegie  wished  it  to  be  understood 
that  Mr.  Morley  came  to  America  not  only  as  orator 
on  Progress  but  as  an  Ambassador  in  Literature ; 
a  part  for  which  no  other  living  Englishman  was  so 
fit.  He  arranged  therefore  that  distinguished  and 
some  undistinguished  Americans  should  meet  him 
elsewhere  than  on  the  platform.  About  one  of  these 
receptions  I  will  venture  to  say  a  word. 


Ill 


MR.    CARNEGIE    AND    LORD    MORLEY THE    LATE    KING    AT 

SKIBO A    PITTSBURG    STORY 

The  dinner,  or  this  particular  dinner,  which  Mr. 
Carnegie  gave  Mr.  Morley  was  like  no  other  dinner 


254       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

ever  given  by  anybody  to  anybody.  Not  large  enough 
to  be  called  public,  but  yet  not  private.  It  was  given 
in  Mr.  Carnegie's  house  in  Fifth  Avenue,  and  we  sat 
down  twenty-two  persons.  I  think  what  our  host 
intended  was  that  English  and  American  literatures 
should  meet  and  exchange  greetings.  There  were, 
however,  on  the  American  side  men  eminent  in  other 
things  than  literature ;  such  as  Arms,  Law,  and 
Journalism.  Mr.  Carnegie,  unhappily,  was  ill  upstairs 
and  could  not  appear.  With  one  of  those  graceful 
intuitions  which  make  women  what  they  are  in  society, 
Mrs.  Carnegie  took  her  husband's  place.  There  was 
no  other  lady.  Dinner  over,  she  rose,  bade  us  good- 
bye, and  appointed  Mr.  Gilder  to  preside. 

In  front  of  each  guest  lay  an  engraved  extract  from 
some  book  or  other  writing  of  Mr.  Morley  ;  each 
quotation  different,  but  each  with  an  engraved  request 
that  the  guest  would  take  the  passage  before  him  as 
the  text  of  his  speech.  Mr.  Gilder  and  Mr.  Morley 
alone  were  free  to  talk  on  what  they  liked.  Mr. 
Gilder  presented — as  if  he  were  Mr.  Charles  Frohman — 
Mr.  Morley  in  a  few  words  chosen  with  the  scholastic 
care  characteristic  of  Mr.  Gilder.  Then  Mr.  Morley, 
not  wholly  free  from  embarrassment,  spoke  rather 
briefly  but,  as  ever,  weightily  and,  as  ever,  expressing 
the  thought  which  was  his  own  in  that  language  of 
literature  from  which  neither  politics  nor  society  ever 
wholly  withdraws  him. 

I  know  not  how  to  go  on.  I  will  do  nothing  beyond 
chronicling  the  fact  that  of  the  twenty-two  men 
present  seventeen  spoke.  But  for  once  the  exuberance 
of  American  after-dinner  oratory  was  kept  in  check. 
There  were  men  present  of  a  distinction  such  that 
in  ordinary  circumstances  they  would  have  thought 
themselves  entitled  to  not  less  than  half  an  hour  apiece. 


MR.   ANDREW   CARNEGIE  255 

With  a  tact  for  which  no  praise  could  be  too  high, 
they  contented  themselves  with  a  modest  five  or  ten 
minutes.  As  I  listened  I  remember  hoping  that  each 
speaker  felt,  as  each  listener  felt,  how  much  each  little 
discourse  gained  by  condensation.  Probably  they  did, 
since  the  characters  of  speaker  and  listener  were 
continually  interchangeable.  Every  now  and  again  I 
looked  at  Mr.  Morley.  He  had  no  notion  what  he 
was  to  expect,  and  as  presently  it  dawned  upon  him 
that  Mr.  Carnegie  had  required  a  speech  from  almost 
every  one  of  his  guests  there  came  over  Mr.  Morley's 
benignant  face  an  expression  of  pleased  bewilderment 
which  had  about  it  something  of  religious  beauty.  The 
Christian  virtues,  for  that  night  at  any  rate,  were  his. 

It  was  a  scene  which  could  have  occurred  nowhere 
but  in  America  and  perhaps  nowhere  in  America 
except  under  Mr.  Carnegie's  roof.  I  have  never  told 
the  story  in  England.  I  was  sure  no  Englishman 
would  believe  me.  I  don't  know  whether  Mr.  Morley 
ever  told  it.  His  rigorous  accuracy  of  mind  might 
convince,  yet  an  Englishman's  power  of  belief  in 
novelties  is  never  very  great,  and  the  notion  of  seven- 
teen speeches  at  a  semi-private  dinner  would  have 
seemed  to  him  all  but  incredible.  Yet  had  this  same 
sceptical  Englishman  been  there  he  would  have  spent 
an  evening  of  fresh  impressions  and  agreeable  social 
relations  such  as  might  have  induced  him  to  reconsider 
his  fixed  conceptions  of  hospitality. 

Mr.  Morley  was  delighted  with  the  views  of 
American  life  which  Mr.  Carnegie  presented  to  him. 
He  had,  however,  a  wish  to  see  something  of  that 
social  fabric  which  exists  for  its  own  sake,  and  a  friend 
who  knew  of  this  wish  arranged  a  luncheon  for  him 
at  Sherry's,  which  included  two  of  the  women  whom 
everybody  would  recognize,  by  their  names  and  other- 


256       ANGLO-AMERICAN  MEMORIES 

wise,  as  leaders  in  New  York  society.  There  were  two 
others  o£  the  same  class  and  two  men  like  unto  them. 
Mr.  Morley  sat  between  the  two  ladies  first  mentioned 
whom  he  met,  as  he  did  the  others,  for  the  first  time, 
and  his  pleasure  was  plain  to  see.  As  we  walked  away 
together  after  luncheon,  he  said  : 

"  Pray  have  you  many  women  in  New  York  of  the 
force  and  beauty  of  Mrs.  X  ?  And  I  might  ask  the 
same  question  about  any  of  the  others." 

If  Mr.  Carnegie  will  forgive  one  intrusion  into  more 
or  less  private  life,  perhaps  he  will  forgive  another. 
He  must  know  how  keen  American  curiosity  about 
Skibo  is  and  that,  often  as  it  has  been  gratified,  it  is 
still  keen.  I  am  not  going  to  describe  the  castle  which 
I  have  seen  only  once.  All  I  can  offer  you  is  an  im- 
pression. Mr.  Winston  Churchill  and  I  were  staying 
at  Dunrobin,  fourteen  miles  away,  and  telephoned  one 
morning  to  ask  if  we  might  come  to  luncheon.  We 
motored  over,  partly  in  the  belief  that  we  should  find 
Mr.  Morley  at  Skibo  ;  but  he  had  gone.  We  found 
instead  a  group  of  guests,  all  unknown  to  us,  and  all 
with  unusual  gifts  of  silence. 

Skibo  was  once  old  and  I  believe  Mr.  Carnegie 
would  have  liked  to  keep  it  old  ;  but  his  architect 
warned  him  there  was  no  compromise  between  leaving 
it  a  ruin  and  rebuilding  from  the  foundations.  He 
chose  the  latter,  and  the  result  is  that  Skibo  is  probably 
the  newest  old  castle  in  the  world.  Mr.  Carnegie  is 
modern  and  his  castle  is  modern.  It  is  an  expression 
of  Mr.  Carnegie.  He  is  a  man  who  knows  what  he 
likes  and  generally  gets  it.  He  likes  comfort,  his  own 
sort  of  comfort ;  why  should  he  not  have  it  ?  What 
feudal  chieftain  or  what  ancient  Laird  of  Skibo  would 
have  thought  of  building  a  swimming-bath  ninety  feet 
long  ?    But  Mr.  Carnegie,  to  whom  everything  feudal 


MR.    ANDREW   CARNEGIE  257 

is  alien,  thought  of  it,  and  built  it,  and  there  it  is  to- 
day. And  many  other  things  are  there  to-day,  just 
as  free  as  the  bath  is  from  the  feudal  stamp.  The 
modern  upholsterer  has  replaced  the  Highland  robber. 

The  library  interested  me  most.  There  are  some 
five-and-twenty  thousand  volumes  all  chosen  by  the 
late  Lord  Acton,  and  what  could  be  more  stimulating 
than  to  look  over  the  collection  of  books  which  Lord 
Acton  had  thought  suitable  as  a  library  for  Mr. 
Carnegie  ?  You  saw  the  meeting  of  two  minds,  each 
highly  remarkable  and  as  unlike  as  it  was  possible  for 
two  minds  to  be.  Lord  Acton  was  once  asked  how 
much  he  read  daily,  on  an  average,  and  his  answer 
was  : 

"  One  big  octavo  volume  a  day,  most  likely  in 
German,  beside  odds  and  ends," 

Mr.  Carnegie,  as  we  all  know,  has  read  much  and 
written  much,  excellently  well,  but  until  quite  re- 
cently the  world  knew  him,  since  his  retirement  from 
business,  as  a  creator  of  libraries,  or  at  least  of 
library  buildings.  I  asked  him  that  morning  how 
many  he  had  given  away  during  that  month  which 
Vv'as  nearing  its  end.  He  rang  for  his  secretary  who 
said  :  "  I  will  get  the  hst,  sir,"  which  presently  he 
laid  before  us.    There  were  twenty-seven. 

There  are,  of  course,  men,  both  scholars  and  men 
of  the  world,  who  doubt  whether  Mr.  Carnegie  has 
made  the  best  use  of  his  money  in  scattering  library 
buildings  about,  which  can  serve  only  local  uses. 
Even  if  you  put  the  fiction  question  aside,  is  it  worth 
while  to  form  collections  of  books  in  separate  towns 
which  can  never  have  any  real  importance  as  libraries  ? 
Is  anything  gained  by  multiplying  copies  of  Hume  and 
Gibbon  and  Macaulay  and  other  classics  which  no 
gentleman's  library  should  be  without  ?  Mr.  Carnegie, 
s 


258       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

I  know,  was  urged  to  make  a  different  use  of  his 
money  : 

"  We  have  in  America  no  Bodleian  Library,  no 
British  Museum.  We  have  no  hbrary  to  which  a 
speciaUzing  student  can  go  with  the  certainty  of  find- 
ing the  books  he  needs  to  carry  on  his  studies  to  the 
end.  If  you  would  found  such  a  library  at  Yale  or 
Harvard  or  Columbia,  or  take  the  New  York  Pubhc 
Library,  or  the  Congressional  Library  at  Washington, 
and  complete  them,  or  one  of  them,  you  would  serve 
American  scholarship  as  it  can  be  served  in  no  other 
way." 

But  Mr.  Carnegie  is  a  Democrat,  and  applies  the 
principles  and  dogmas  of  his  political  faith  to  his 
schemes  for  the  improvement  of  mankind,  and  he 
went  his  own  way  as  I  suppose  he  always  will.  And 
yet  it  is  not  too  late  to  try  the  other  way.  There  is  a 
sense  in  which  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number  is  the  happiness  of  number  one.  In  other 
words,  raise  the  standard  at  the  top  and  you  Hft  a 
whole  people  with  it.  But  Mr.  Carnegie  has  a  faith 
not  only  in  Democracy  but  in  himself  ;  which  accounts 
for  many  of  his  splendid  successes,  and  perhaps  now 
and  then  for  a  failure. 

It  was  in  this  Acton-Carnegie  Hbrary  that  Mr. 
Carnegie  had  lately  received  King  Edward,  who  had 
been  staying  at  Dunrobin  and  had  motored  over  for 
luncheon.  It  was  here  that  Mr.  Carnegie  welcomed 
the  King  by  reciting  to  him  the  poem  which  Mr. 
Joaquin  Miller  had  composed  on  the  occasion  of  Mr. 
Carnegie's  birthday.  I  was  shown  the  poem,  em- 
blazoned in  colours  on  stamped  cardboard.  All  about 
the  country-side  the  story  of  this  poem  had  been  told, 
or  several  stories  had  been  told.  The  King,  it  was 
said,  did  not  Hke  Mr.  Joaquin  Miller's  effusion.     In 


MR.    ANDREW   CARNEGIE  259 

truth,  these  verses  of  the  Poet  of  the  Sierras  were  not 
conceived  in  a  courtierlike  spirit.  They  began  with 
invocations  to  the  German  Emperor,  to  President 
Roosevelt,  to  the  King,  "  Hail  fat  Edward  " — "  That's 
you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Carnegie  to  the  King — and  then 
swept  aside  all  these  great  personages  with  Mr.  Joaquin 
Miller's  personal  assurance  that  he  had  rather  shake 
Mr.  Carnegie's  strong  hand  than  all  the  others  ;  as 
if  they  were  all  outstretched  to  him,  which  they  do 
not  appear  to  have  been. 

It  is  true  the  late  King  was  fat,  which  did  not 
prevent  him  from  carrying  himself  with  a  distinction 
that  proved  how  little  mere  physique  has  to  do  with 
dignity  and  personal  charm.  His  mother  had  proved 
it  before  him.  But  it  is  not  the  custom  to  dwell  on 
these  matters  with  royalty.  There  is  a  story  of  a  man 
in  a  shooting  party  who  said  to  the  King  as  he  missed 
two  or  three  pheasants  flying  high  over  his  head  : 
"  Sir,  you  are  too  fat  to  shoot  rocketers."  But  he  was 
never  again  asked  to  shoot  with  the  King  ;  nor  perhaps 
would  Mr.  Joaquin  Miller  have  been. 

I  heard  both  at  Skibo  and  at  Dunrobin  that  Mr. 
Carnegie  was  a  good  landlord  and  good  neighbour.  The 
Duke  of  Sutherland  is  reported  to  have  said  of  him  : 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Carnegie  has  been  a  good  neighbour 
to  me.  He  bought  a  good  deal  of  my  land  which  I 
wanted  to  sell  and  paid  me  a  good  price,  and  I  never 
heard  that  any  of  the  tenants  were  the  worse  for  the 
change.  They  and  all  the  people  about  are,  indeed, 
better  off  than  if  the  land  had  remained  mine,  for 
Carnegie  has  spent  more  money  on  the  property  than 
I  could,  and  spent  it  wisely  and  kindly." 

As  the  Duke  owns  something  like  a  million  and  a 
half  acres,  his  testimony  is  to  the  point  ;  the  more  so 
as  he  is  himself  a  good  and  liberal  landlord. 


26o       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

In  what  used  to  be  Mr.  Carnegie's  proper  environ- 
ment, Pittsburg,  I  heard  a  similar  account  of  his 
relations  to  those  about  him  and  under  him.  His  men 
knew  him  as  a  just  master  ;  generous  withal,  and 
abounding  in  human  sympathies.  If  their  faith  was 
ever  shaken  for  a  moment,  it  may  have  been  at  the 
time  of  the  great  Homestead  strike  for  which  a  firm 
hand  was  needed  and  found,  but  not  Mr.  Carnegie's. 
He  was  away  in  Scotland.  When  he  returned,  order 
had  been  restored.  He  is  reported  to  have  said  to 
some  of  the  men  : 

"  Boys,  I  am  sorry  all  this  has  happened.  Perhaps 
if  I  had  been  here  it  might  not  have  happened.  But 
I  could  not  go  back  on  my  partners,  could  I  ?  " 

True  or  not,  it  is  illustrative.  With  all  his  master- 
fulness he  knew  when  to  concede,  and  perhaps  when 
to  be  in  Scotland,  and  I  suppose  he  never  went  back 
on  anybody. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MR.    WILLIAM    WALDORF    ASTOR    AND    HIS 
EXPERIENCES    IN    ENGLAND 


TF  I  say  anything  about  Mr.  William  Waldorf 
Astor  I  shall  encounter  in  the  United  States, 
I  suppose,  a  strong  prejudice  due  to  his  having  be- 
come a  naturalized  British  subject.  But  I  must  risk 
that.  The  American  point  of  view  is  apt  to  be 
American.  That,  however,  is  not  the  only  point 
of  view.  There  are  others,  whether  we  choose  to 
admit  it  or  not.  When  a  German  or  Scandinavian 
casts  off  his  German  or  Scandinavian  nationality 
and  becomes  a  naturalized  American  citizen,  we 
welcome  him.  We  do  not  feel  bound  to  take  note 
of  German  or  Scandinavian  protests  against  his 
abandonment  of  his  native  land.  In  the  case  of 
Germany  there  are  such  protests,  and  very  strong 
protests.  For  a  long  time  Germany  refused  to  recog- 
nize the  right  of  expatriation,  and  if  a  naturalized 
German  returned  to  Germany  she  compelled  him  to 
undergo  military  conscription  as  if  still  a  German. 
Once  a  German  always  a  German  was  her  motto. 
It  required  a  treaty,  negotiated  by  the  historian 
Bancroft,  then  our  Minister  at  Berlin,  to  relieve 
him  from  that  obligation.  That  was  the  German 
point  of  view,  and  I  think  we  may  admit  that  the 
German  sentiment  of  nationality  and  love  for  the 
Fatherland    is    not    less    strong   than    the    American. 

265 


262       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

But  since  we  nevertheless  incorporate  some  millions 
of  Germans,  against  the  general  wish  of  the  German 
people,  into  our  American  Republic,  need  we  be  so 
angry  with  a  single  American  who  elects  to  become 
an  Englishman  ?  We  may  regret  it.  We  need  not 
revile  him. 

Why  Mr.  Astor  made  this  choice  is  not  generally 
known.  Most  New  Yorkers  are  aware  that  his  position 
at  home,  for  reasons  I  need  not  go  into,  was  made 
difficult  for  him,  by  no  fault  of  his.  At  any  rate, 
he  resolved  to  come  over  here  and  live.  As  his  children 
grew  up  they  presented  a  problem.  Were  they  to 
be  British  or  American  ?  They  were  to  live  in 
England.  If  he  became  a  British  subject  before 
they  were  of  age,  they  would  be  British  also.  Mr. 
Astor  was  quite  aware  of  the  criticism  which  would 
be  made  and  of  the  obloquy  that  would  follow  upon 
his  decision.  But  he  preferred  to  take  that  upon 
himself  rather  than  let  it  fall  upon  his  children ; 
and  that  is  why  he  determined  to  be  naturalized 
while  they  were  still  minors.  He  may  have  been 
right  or  wrong  but  the  motive  of  parental  piety 
to  his  children  is  one  that  we  can  all  respect. 

So  far  as  I  know,  Mr.  Astor  has  made  no  explanation 
and  has  made  no  answer  of  any  kind  to  the  invective 
of  his  American  assailants.  He  is  a  man  with  a  great 
firmness  of  character  ;  a  great  courage ;  a  great 
power  of  enduring  in  silence  what  he  believes  to  be 
unjust  censure.  If  I  were  to  consult  him,  I  imagine 
he  would  give  no  sanction  to  the  statement  I  am 
making.  But  I  know  the  facts  from  various  sources 
and  I  use  them  on  my  own  responsibility.  A  man's 
friends  may  sometimes  say  for  him  what  he  would 
not  say  for  himself.  And  if  I  thought  it  might  a 
little    appease    American    wrath,    I    would    add    that 


MR.    WILLIAM    WALDORF   ASTOR    263 

Mr.  Astor,  even  as  a  British  subject,  has  done  much 
to  make  the  American  name  respected  here.  Briton 
though  he  be  in  law,  everybody  thinks  of  him  as 
an  American,  and  recognizes  as  primarily  and  essen- 
tially American  those  qualities  which  give  him  a 
place  apart  in  this  English  life.  As  I  knew  him  in 
New  York,  and  have  known  him  all  through  his 
English  experiences,  I  offer  my  testimony  for  what 
it  is  worth. 

Mrs.  Astor  was  living  when  her  husband  chose 
London  as  a  residence.  No  one  who  knew  Mrs. 
Astor  could  imagine  that  social  ambitions  influenced 
her.  It  would  not  be  a  reproach  if  they  had.  Social 
ambitions  are  respectable  in  themselves  and  many 
American  women  have  shown  us  to  what  brilliant 
uses  they  may  be  turned  abroad,  and  what  an  impress 
they  leave  on  English  society.  Mrs.  Astor  took  the 
place  to  which  her  beauty,  her  name,  her  wealth, 
entitled  her,  but  she  took  it  very  quietly  and  almost 
indifferently.  While  they  were  both  in  deep  mourning 
for  the  loss  of  her  father  and  his,  Mr.  Astor  became 
the  tenant  of  Lansdowne  House  ;  one  of  the  few 
houses  in  London  standing  in  its  own  grounds, 
and  a  palace  rather  than  a  house.  I  asked  Mrs. 
Astor  why  she  cared  to  live  in  a  mansion  meant  for 
splendid  hospitalities  which,  in  the  circumstances, 
were  impossible  to  them.     She  answered  : 

"  Oh,  we  had  looked  at  many  houses,  and  Lansdowne 
House  is  the  only  one  which  gave  us  the  two  things 
we  most  wanted ;  perfect  cleanliness  and  good  nur- 
series." 

There  spoke  a  true  simplicity  of  nature.  Later 
they  entertained,  but  never  put  the  full  resources 
of  the  place  to  the  test.  They  went  about,  of  course, 
among  some  of  the  best   people,  who  admired  this 


264       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

American  lady's  simplicity  of  nature  as  they  did 
her  beauty.  There  was  a  dinner  one  night  at  Spencer 
House,  where  Mrs.  Astor  sat  on  Lord  Spencer's 
left  at  the  end  of  a  table  which  stretched  from  end 
to  end  of  that  noble  dining-room,  with  its  noble 
pictures.  She  was  herself  the  loveliest  picture  there, 
and  this  well-bred  company  gazed  and  gazed  till 
even  Mrs.  Astor  became  aware  of  the  homage  offered 
her. 

Mr.  Astor  is  a  man  who  has  ways  of  his  own.  He 
orders  his  life  in  accordance  with  his  own  notions 
of  what  his  life  ought  to  be.  His  tastes  are  positive 
tastes  and  he  gratifies  them.  He  built  himself  a 
Tudor  mansion  on  the  Victoria  Embankment  not 
far  west  of  Blackfriars  Bridge.  This  he  called  at 
first  the  "  John  Jacob  Astor  Estate  Offices,"  which 
has  now  been  simplified  into  "  Astor  Estate."  As 
a  place  of  business  and  of  American  business 
there's  nothing  like  it  either  in  New  York  or 
London  or  anywhere  else.  It  stands  back  from 
the  roadway  and  from  the  river,  looking  perhaps 
with  its  mullioned  windows  and  stained  glass  and 
its  pointed  architecture  as  much  like  an  art  gallery 
as  anything.  The  office  proper  is  on  the  right  as 
you  enter  on  the  ground  floor,  and  there  this  vast 
business  of  real  estate  is  transacted  in  an  atmosphere 
of  such  quiet  and  seclusion  as  exists  nowhere  in  New 
York.  The  complete  records  of  both  the  New  York 
and  London  properties  are  there.  New  York  sending 
transcripts  week  by  week.  Mr.  Astor's  sanctum  is 
on  the  floor  above,  a  great  hall,  of  which  the  ceiling 
is  the  roof ;  the  structural  beams  and  rafters  all 
visible  ;  family  portraits  on  the  walls,  gilt  busts  on 
pedestals,  and  what  we  call  "  Colonial "  furniture 
all  about;  which  I  suppose  no  truly  patriotic  American 


MR.    WILLIAM    WALDORF   ASTOR    265 

will  admit  to  be,  as  it  is,  furniture  of  George  Ill's 
time.  A  spacious,  well-proportioned  baronial  hall, 
with  only  Mr.  Astor's  desk  to  suggest  that  it  is  the 
head-quarters  of  one  of  the  greatest  estates  in  the 
world.  There  is  a  Hbrary  of  rarities  ;  a  bedroom 
with  a  Frangois  Premier  bed  in  it  much  too  large  for 
the  room,  in  which  Mr.  Astor  sleeps  when  in  London, 
with  his  feet  in  the  fireplace  ;  and  much  else.  He 
built  it  to  please  himself  and  it  is  one  of  the  sights 
of  this  ancient  London  ;  not,  I  think,  often  shown 
nor  perhaps  well  known  to  the  tourists.  In  Carlton 
House  Terrace,  which  is  supposed  to  be  his  private 
address,  Mr.  Astor  never  sleeps.  The  vast  house 
serves  for  a  certain  number,  not  many,  dinners  in 
each  season,  followed  by  concerts  of  which  Paderewski 
is  one  attraction  and  Jeannie  Granier  another,  and  a 
long  roll  of  famous  names. 

When  Mr.  Astor  bought  Chveden  from  the  late 
Duke  of  Westminster  there  was  a  dispute,  of  which 
I  suppose  some  echo  found  its  way  across  the  Atlantic. 
The  Duke,  having  sold  the  place  with  its  contents, 
claimed  one  item  of  the  contents  as  still  his  own, 
the  visitors'  book.  If  he  had  asked  for  it  he  would 
have  had  it,  but  when  he  made  a  claim  as  of  right, 
Mr.  Astor  stood  on  his  own  rights  and  the  two 
quarrelled,  about  almost  nothing.  The  Duke  of 
Westminster  was  a  very  powerful  personage  and 
his  friends  took  his  part  ;  and  Society,  ever  respectful 
to  Dukes,  was  a  good  deal  on  his  side.  The  Duke  saw 
fit  to  make  Mrs.  Astor  a  party  to  the  dispute,  and 
wrote  her  a  letter  which  might  better  have  been 
left  unwritten,  and  was  left  unanswered.  After 
keeping  the  book  long  enough  to  assert  his  right, 
Mr.  Astor  sent  it  to  the  Duke.  Yet  the  quarrel  be- 
came a  feud  and  lasted  till  the  Duke's  death. 


266       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

The  Duke  claimed  other  things  more  important 
than  his  visitors'  book.  He  excepted  from  the  contents 
which  were  to  pass  with  the  house  "  a  few  prints." 
He  interpreted  this  exception  as  including  prints 
and  pictures  to  the  value  of  rather  more  than  j^io,ooo, 
as  inventoried  hy  his  own  agent  ;  and  these  he  re- 
moved. Mr.  Astor  could  have  detained  them  but 
he  let  them  go  without  a  word. 

Cliveden  as  the  Duke  sold  it  was  a  beautiful  thing  ; 
Barry's  facade  looking  down  on  the  gentle  Thames 
from  its  lofty  terrace,  amid  woods  and  over  fields 
of  a  soft  multi-coloured  greenness  only  to  be  seen 
in  perfection  in  England.  Its  new  owner  made  it 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  possessions  anywhere 
in  England  or  in  the  world,  of  its  kind.  An  English- 
man of  the  olden  time,  or  of  the  modern  time  with 
the  old  traditions  still  strong  in  him,  might  not  find 
it  to  his  taste.  It  has,  or  had,  not  more  than  three 
hundred  acres  of  land  about  it,  and  any  more  land 
that  might  be  bought  would  be  divided  from  it  by 
high  roads.  Dropmore,  hard  by,  is  much  more  the 
English  idea  of  a  country  place,  with  its  George  HI 
house  in  the  midst  of  three  thousand  acres  of  lovely 
park. 

Mr.  Astor  presently  felt  this  land  hunger  strongly 
and  sought  to  enlarge  his  boundaries,  regardless  of 
the  high  road.  I  believe  he  did  acquire  a  certain 
number  of  acres  but  the  possessions  he  coveted  were 
not  for  sale,  even  at  prices  much  beyond  their  market 
value.  One  of  his  neighbours  declined  a  cheque 
for  half  a  million  for  but  a  fraction  of  the  beautiful 
woods  he  owned,  and  still  owns.  There  are  men  to 
whom  money  is  not  everything,  nor  even  the  first 
thing.  In  these  days  of  Death  Duties  and  Super- 
tax and  Lloyd  George  Budgets  there  are  landowners 


MR.    WILLIAM    WALDORF   ASTOR    267 

who  find  themselves  obHged  to  sell ;  and  of  the  next 
generation  there  will  be  many  more.  But  they  sell 
under  compulsion.  Great  estates  and  old  families 
are  to  be  broken  up.  It  is  Mr.  Lloyd  George's  avowed 
object.  The  American  who  cares  to  see  England 
as  it  has  been  for  centuries,  in  all  its  charm,  must  not 
wait  too  long. 

Possibly  even  Mr.  Astor  may  not  now  regret 
that  his  attempts  to  make  Cliveden  a  landed  property 
failed.  Land  is  becoming  in  England  the  most 
expensive  of  all  luxuries,  and  Mr.  Astor  is,  by  descent 
and  education,  a  man  of  business  first  of  all,  and  a 
man  of  business  does  not  like  paying  more  than  a 
thing  is  worth.  Nor  does  a  man  of  business,  or  any 
man,  like  being  despoiled  of  his  property,  whether  by 
the  State  or  by  unlegalized  brigandage.  Nor  is  the 
doctrine  of  ransom,  originally  Mr.  Chamberlain's 
doctrine,  yet  accepted  by  the  classes  who  have  to 
pay  it.  But  those  classes  are  a  minority,  and  the 
rights  of  the  minority  in  England  are  at  the  mercy 
of  the  new  majority. 


II 

So  Mr.  Astor,  unable  to  broaden  the  acreage 
of  Cliveden,  applied  himself  to  the  beautifying 
of  the  house  and  of  such  land  as  there  was.  I  can 
imagine  he  found  some  pleasure  in  improving  upon 
what  the  Dukes  of  Westminster  and  of  Sutherland 
had  left  behind  them.  Their  decoration  of  the 
interior  was  an  example  of  the  early  Victorian  manner; 
commonplace,  inartistic,  Philistine.  He  swept  all 
that  away  except  one  little  room,  which  he  left 
with   its   trcllis-work  and   tawdry  garlanded  cornices 


268       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

by  way  of  contrast  to  the  new  ;  perhaps  not  without 
a  Kttle  mischievous  pleasure  in  perpetuating  these 
ducal  trivialities. 

The  great  hall  and  the  oaken  staircase  are  now 
fine  specimens  of  modern  work.  The  library  is  in 
some  strange  wood  from  the  antipodes,  the  name 
of  which  I  could  never  remember.  The  drawing- 
room  is  brilliant  Louis  XIV ;  the  dining-room  an 
interior  from  a  French  chateau,  with  at  one  time 
a  cafe-chantant  ceiling,  painted  with  daring.  The 
bedrooms  are  models  of  luxurious  comfort.  In  the 
hall  hang  Romneys  and  Sir  Joshuas  and  other  masters ; 
a  gallery  of  art  splendours.  This  is  no  place  for 
details  but  not  the  most  careless  glance  can  omit  the 
marble  balustrade  now  edging  the  terrace,  as  if  with 
lace  ;  an  exquisite  piece  from  the  Villa  Borghese, 
the  export  of  which  from  Italy  was  strictly  forbidden. 
Mr.  Waldo  Story  has  established  a  group  of  white 
marble  ladies  in  charge  of  the  great  fountain  past 
which  you  drive  to  the  entrance,  and  has  adorned 
the  landing  and  the  path  to  it  with  fantasies  in  coloured 
marble  designs,  inspired  from  the  Borghese  original. 
A  miniature  Italian  garden  and  a  miniature  chapel 
in  gold  and  mosaic  and  marble  nestle  beneath  the 
cliff. 

The  late  Duke  of  Westminster,  whose  name  has 
to  recur  now  and  then,  had  a  liking  for  Queen  Anne 
architecture  of  which  his  London  Mayfair  property 
is  the  extreme  expression.  He  took  it  with  him  to 
Cliveden.  On  either  side  of  the  approach  to  Barry's 
Italian  front  were  two  Italian  pavilions  of  grey  stone, 
reaching  out  with  long  arms  or  galleries  from  the 
main  building  toward  the  fountain.  The  Duke  tore 
down  one  of  them  and  built  in  place  of  it  a  red  brick 
parody  of  a   Queen  Anne  Lodge.      Vandalism  or  a 


MR.    WILLIAM    WALDORF   ASTOR    269 

passion  for  grotesque,  architectural  ineptitude  could 
not  go  much  further  than  that.  Mr.  Astor  in  his 
turn  tore  down  the  Duke's  work  and  replaced  it  by 
a  copy  of  Barry's  original.  Scarce  anything  he  did 
could  have  given  him  more  pleasure  than  that ;  or 
more  pleasure  to  the  beholder. 

Arriving  one  Saturday  at  Cliveden  for  the  week- 
end, I  found  the  one  vacant  panel  in  the  hall  had 
been  enriched  by  a  Romney,  one  of  that  painter's 
most  delicate  creations.  I  was  indiscreet  enough 
to  ask  Mr.  Astor  of  whom  he  bought  it  ;  indiscreet 
because,  in  these  days  of  legislative  financial  embarrass- 
ments among  the  English  families  possessing  such 
treasures,  pictures  are  sometimes  sold  on  condition 
that  the  name  of  the  former  owner  is  not  to  be 
revealed.  Not,  however,  in  this  case.  Mr.  Astor 
had  bought  it  of  a  dealer,  whom  he  named  but  I 
do  not ;  a  sinister  notoriety  now  attaching  to  the 
name. 

"  It  is  the  first  picture  I  ever  bought  of  him  and 
it  will  be  the  last." 

"  You  don't  doubt  it's  a  Romney  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  the  picture  is  all  right  ;  it  is  the  price 
which  was  all  wrong." 

That,  too,  was  characteristic  of  Mr.  Astor.  He 
did  not  mind  paying  a  good  price  if  he  thought 
he  had  been  fairly  dealt  with  ;  if  not,  he  closed  that 
book. 

Having  done  all  he  cared  to  with  Cliveden,  he 
gave  it  to  his  son  Waldorf  on  his  marriage  with  Mrs. 
Shaw  ;  and  there  these  young  people  have  lived 
and  entertained  ever  since,  the  shining  centre  of  a 
shining  circle  of  brilliant  friends.  Young  Mr.  Waldorf 
arranges  his  life  on  independent  lines  ;  racing  in 
moderation,  and  having  now  found  a  scat  in  Parlia- 


270       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

ment  as  Unionist  Member  for  Plymouth.  He  made 
a  speech  last  session  on  National  Insurance  which 
won  him  compliments  from  so  great  an  authority  as 
Mr.  Winston  Churchill,  and  has  a  political  career 
before  him  should  he  care  to  follow  it. 

Before  parting  with  Cliveden  Mr.  Astor  bought 
Hever  Castle,  in  the  county  of  Kent,  some  thirty 
miles  from  London.  A  moated  castle,  its  oldest 
walls  of  the  thirteenth  century,  the  main  fabric 
Tudor,  but  with  drawbridge,  portcullis,  and  battle- 
ments complete.  Of  no  great  size,  and  since  Mr. 
Astor  wished  to  entertain  week-end  parties  the 
question  arose.  How  to  do  it  ?  He  had  an  inspiration 
of  genius.  He  perceived  that  to  attempt  to  enlarge 
the  castle  would  be  fatal.  He  therefore  built  outside 
of  it  a  Tudor  village,  connecting  with  the  castle  by 
a  covered  bridge  and  each  cottage  connecting  with 
the  other.  Inside,  you  pass  from  castle  to  cottages 
unaware  that  they  are  not  all  part  of  the  same  fabric 
and  beneath  the  same  roof.  Thus  he  houses  some 
•  five-and- twenty  guests.  His  own  rooms  are  in  the 
castle-.  Splendours  everywhere  ;  galleries  filled  with 
objets  d^art,  Venetian,  Florentine,  and  others  ;  pictures, 
furniture,  treasures  of  many  lands,  all  contriving 
to  seem  at  home  in  this  old  English  abode  and  in 
the  home  of  Anne  Boleyn.  It  is  her  name  and  names 
associated  with  hers  that  give  an  historical  interest 
to  this  venerable  pile,  which  has  been  restored  to 
something  like  what  it  was  when  that  fascinating 
minx  dwelt  in  it. 

Outside,  Mr.  Astor  has  built — a  word  to  which 
Mr.  Gladstone  objected  when  I  applied  it  to  the 
Panama  Canal — two  broad  lakes  and  an  Italian 
pergola,  very  spacious  and  imposing.  There's  an 
Italian  garden,  of  course  ;  without  an  Italian  garden 


MR.    WILLIAM    WALDORF   ASTOR    271 

and  without  an  atmosphere  of  Italy  about  him  he 
could  not  live.  Italy  is  in  his  blood,  and  when  he 
goes  to  his  delicious  villa  in  Sorrento  I  don't  doubt 
he  is  more  at  home  than  in  his  Tudor  castle,  except 
that  he  cannot  gather  about  him  so  many  friends. 
Last  summer  at  Hever  he  was  ill  with  gout,  a  painful 
attack,  but  when  I  asked  him  why  he  did  not  abandon 
these  cold  clay  lands  and  stone  walls  and  seek  the 
sunshine  of  Sorrento,  he  answered  : 

"  But  how  can  I  give  up  these  parties  of  pleasant 
friends  ?  " 

There  again  spoke  the  Astor  his  friends  know,  if  the 
world  does  not. 

But  on  Hever,  as  well  as  on  Cliveden,  his  hand  has 
rested  and  his  mind  has  spent  its  activities  till  not 
much  more  remains  to  be  done.  For  five  years  he 
kept  eight  hundred  men  steadily  at  work  on  the  place, 
Italy  all  the  time  paying  him  its  forbidden  tribute 
tiU  you  think  there  is  no  room  inside  for  another 
cup  of  crystal  or  another  gem  of  whatever  sort. 
What  will  he  do  with  it  all  ? 

"  Well,  I  dare  say  I  shall  give  it  to  John  some  day, 
and  then  find  myself  another  toy." 

Something  he  must  have  on  which  to  pour  out  his 
quenchless  energies  ;  the  management  of  his  Astor 
properties  on  two  sides  of  the  Atlantic  leaving  him 
leisure  that  has  to  be  filled  somehow.  He  fills  it  in 
part  with  literature,  using  his  pen  with  the  vigour 
he  devotes  to  business.  Now  and  then  he  buys  a 
newspaper  or  magazine.  The  Pall  Mall  Gazette 
and  The  Pall  Mall  Magazine  are  his.  Quite  recently 
he  has  done  a  high  public  service ;  buying  The  Ob- 
server, the  foremost  of  Sunday  papers  in  London, 
in  order  to  keep  Mr.  Garvin  its  editor.  Mr.  Garvin 
is    the    foremost    of    the    younger    EngHsh    editing 


272       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

journalists,  a  man  of  such  independence  and  con- 
viction that  he  can  surrender  his  convictions  to  no 
proprietor,  though  ready  to  surrender  his  editor- 
ship. In  the  crisis  which  besets  this  country  he  has 
led  the  thought  and  put  nerve  into  the  purpose  of 
the  Conservative  chiefs.  But  there  came  a  moment 
when  the  owner  of  ^he  Observer  and  the  editor 
of  it  differed,  and  it  was  supposed  Mr.  Garvin  must 
go.  I  could  conceive  no  greater  calamity  to  journalism 
or  to  the  Conservative  cause.  Then  it  was  that  Mr. 
Astor  bought  the  paper,  asking  Mr.  Garvin  to  remain 
and  to  conduct  it  as  his  conscience  ordained. 

Since  then  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette  also  has  passed 
under  Mr.  Garvin's  control.  The  great  evening 
journal  which  Mr.  Frederick  Greenwood  created 
has  known  many  vicissitudes.  It  was  a  power  under 
Mr.  Greenwood,  and  again  under  Mr.  John  Morley, 
and  again,  of  a  very  different  sort,  under  Mr.  Stead, 
whose  caprices  of  mind  and  purpose,  always  vigorous 
and  not  always  wise,  led  this  journal  along  strange 
paths  to  strange  ends.  It  has  had  other  editors, 
no  one  of  them,  capable  as  they  were,  seeming  to 
find  a  permanent  foothold.  But  Mr.  Astor  saw  that 
there  was  room  for,  and  need  of,  a  Conservative 
evening  paper  conducted  on  lines  different  from  those 
of  any  existing  journal,  and  he  offered  the  Pall  Mall 
to  Mr.  Garvin. 

It  is  no  light  matter  to  edit  a  daily  and  weekly  at 
the  same  time.  But  Mr.  Garvin's  power  of  work  has 
no  known  limits,  and  he  shouldered  the  double  burden 
with  a  just  confidence  in  himself.  That  he  would 
be  content  to  edit  the  Pall  Mall  in  any  spirit  of 
routine  or  to  imitate  any  of  his  predecessors,  nobody 
supposed.  Overnight  the  process  of  transformation 
began.      To   remodel   any   newspaper   completely   is 


MR.    WILLIAM    WALDORF   ASTOR    273 

a  serious  task,  to  be  accomplished  step  by  step.  In 
the  practical  business  of  journalism  Mr.  Garvin 
shows  the  same  quaHties  which  have  made  him  the 
great  editor  he  is.  He  well  knows  that  to  preach 
the  gospel  you  must  have  a  pulpit  to  preach  from, 
a  platform  from  which  you  can  reach  the  multitude. 
So  he  has  set  himself  to  make  the  Pall  Mall  a  news- 
paper in  the  right  sense  of  the  word,  as  well  as  a 
journal  of  ideas  and  convictions.  In  the  leader 
columns  the  revolution  was  instantaneous.  Mr. 
Garvin's  unsigned  articles  are  signed  in  every  line. 
He  has  in  him  that  kind  of  intellectual  energy  which 
is  neither  rhetorical  nor  forensic  but  the  outcome 
of  fervent  belief,  religious  in  its  intensity,  kept  in 
order  by  knowledge,  with  a  scientific  basis  for  his 
apostolic  mission.  The  opportunity  of  saying  at 
once  what  ought  to  be  said  instead  of  waiting  a  week 
is  nov/  his.  He  is  eager  to  say  it  and  the  public 
is  eager  to  hear  ;  none  more  so  than  journalists  them- 
selves, whether  with  him  or  against  him.  To  both 
he  is  an  inspiriting  influence. 

About  Mr.  Astor's  conservatism  there  is  no  doubt, 
and  his  American  countrymen  owe  him  a  debt  for 
that ;  since,  on  the  matters  now  at  issue,  the  con- 
servatism of  England  and  the  conservatism  of  the 
United  States  are  twins.  His  principles  and  his 
interests  may  coincide  ;  each  a  greater  force  for  the 
help  of  the  other.  When  Mr.  Lloyd  George's  first 
Budget  spread  alarm  among  men  who  had  something 
to  lose,  Mr.  Astor  acted  in  his  usual  decisive  way. 
We  were  discussing  at  Hcver  the  exit  of  capital  from 
England  to  safer  homes.  Stories  were  current  of 
fleeting  millions.  I  asked  Mr.  Astor  whether  he 
thought  them  true. 

"  I  know  of  one  that  is  true.    Within  the  last  three 


274       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

months  I  have  remitted  to  New  York  a  milHon  and 
a  half  sterhng  ($7,500,000),  which  but  for  Mr. 
Lloyd  George's  Budget  I  should  have  invested  here." 

"  May  I  say  so  ?  " 

"  Repeat  it  to  whom  you  will.  I  care  not  who 
knows  it." 

So  there  is  a  tribute  from  this  expatriated  American 
to  the  financial  security  of  the  country  that  once  was 
his. 

The  truth  is,  Mr.  Astor  has  remained,  spite  of 
his  British  naturalization,  an  American.  Nobody 
could  take  him  for  anything  else:  in  appearance, 
in  manner,  in  speech.  He  has  the  American  abrupt- 
ness, quickness,  decision.  He  has  been  in  close  con- 
tact with  three  civilizations,  American,  English, 
and  Italian,  but  it  is  the  American  which  has  left 
its  stamp  on  him ;  an  ineffaceable  hallmark.  He  is 
an  American  host,  with  that  liking  for  precision 
and  straight  lines  which  is  certainly  not  English. 
In  earUer  days  the  Enghsh  thought  him  rather  a 
martinet  who  arranged  the  days  a  little  strictly. 
If  that  was  ever  so,  it  has  long  since  worn  off.  They 
imagined  a  story  that  when  a  Royal  Princess  was 
staying  with  him  at  Cliveden  who  was  unpunctual 
at  dinner,  he  went  in  to  dinner  without  her  ;  no 
doubt  the  invention  of  some  guest  who  was  not  royal 
and  was  late.  In  truth,  there  was  no  house  in  the 
kingdom  where  you  disposed  of  your  time  more  freely 
than  at  Cliveden.  A  choice  was  offered  you  but 
you  chose  for  yourself,  or  did  nothing  if  you  pre- 
ferred that.  It  is  the  same  at  Hever  Castle.  I  have 
sometimes  spent  a  Sunday  alone  with  Mr.  Astor 
at  Cliveden.  There  is  no  better  way  of  judging, 
and  he  is  then  at  his  best.  His  talk  ranges  wide. 
He  touches  life  at  many  points,  and  neither  the  eye 


MR.    WILLIAM    WALDORF   ASTOR    275 

nor  the  hand,  neither  the  judgment  nor  the  intuition, 
is  at  fault. 

His  eldest  son  married  an  American,  his  daughter 
an  Englishman.  The  scales  were  held  even.  The 
son  was  brought  up  as  all  Astors  since  the  first  have 
been  brought  up ;  to  take  life  seriously.  He  was 
educated  to  the  business  of  managing  a  vast  estate. 
Again  the  American  tradition,  the  Astor  tradition, 
cherished  and  practised  here  in  England  exactly  as 
in  New  York.  He  could  not  cast  it  off  if  he  would, 
and  most  certainly  he  would  not. 

You  may  call  mine  an  estimate  of  friendship  if 
you  like  but,  friendly  or  not,  it  is  true  as  far  as  it 
goes.  I  have  written  of  the  man  as  I  know  him. 
He  lives  in  England,  but  New  York  in  its  new  develop- 
ment, in  the  movements  of  population,  in  the  values 
and  prospects  of  real  estate,  is  as  familiar  to  him  as 
if  New  York  were  still  his  home.  And  his  services 
to  his  native  land  are  perhaps  as  great  as  if  his  nation- 
ality and  citizenship  were  still  American. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

JAMES    M'NEILL   WHISTLER— ANECDOTES, 
ESTIMATES,    FRIENDSHIPS 

T  ONG  since  a  literature  has  grown  up  about 
^^  Whistler  and  there  may  seem  no  particular 
reason  for  adding  to  it.  A  legend  also  has  grown  up, 
as  about  all  unusual  men.  But  by  dint  of  omitting 
all  the  well-known  stories  concerning  him  it  may  still 
be  possible  to  say  something.  I  knew  him  for  many 
years,  in  many  places,  in  many  ways.  We  were 
friends  till  the  inevitable  end  came.  I  have  letters  of 
his,  mostly  brief,  always  pungent,  sometimes  epistolary 
masterpieces,  and  his  books  which  he  gave  me  ;  books 
like  none  others. 

I  have  a  pencil  drawing,  also  a  gift  :  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  he  ever  did  ;  a  figure  of  a  woman, 
nearly  nude,  wholly  nude,  indeed,  but  for  a  per- 
fectly transparent  veil  of  gauze  ;  a  cloud  rather  than 
a  veil,  through  which  the  delicate,  full  contours  of 
this  modern  goddess  are  visible,  their  values  enhanced 
by  the  mere  suggestion  of  mystery  thrown  about 
them.  It  is  nothing  to  say  that  this  is  a  poetic  treat- 
ment of  purely  physical  facts.  They  are  not  purely 
physical.  The  little  drawing  is  a  poem  of  exquisite 
loveliness.  The  figure  is  at  full  length,  about  eight 
inches  high,  the  left  arm  outstretched  ;  the  fingers 
holding  the  drapery  through  which  the  outlines  shape 
themselves  ;  the  right  arm  a  little  away  from  the 
body;  the  body  poised  on  the  right  foot,  solidly  planted 

276 


JAMES    M'NEILL   WHISTLER         277 

on  the  ground,  if  there  be  any  ground  ;  the  left  just 
ready  to  take  flight.  The  whole  aerial,  unsubstantial ; 
the  fabric  of  a  dream,  yet  drawn  with  a  precision  and 
firmness  as  if  for  all  eternity.  And  since,  for  all  its 
purity  of  treatment,  there  is  a  hint  of  fleshly  beauty 
and  of  temptation,  it  was  probably  drawn  especially 
for  what  is  left  of  this  life  before  eternity  begins. 
Signed  twice  over  with  the  butterfly,  and  signed  in 
every  line  and  touch  of  the  master.  Even  the  frame  is 
Whistler's  ;  its  expanse  of  white  mount  and  narrow 
edging  of  white  wood  and  black  lines  one  more  proof 
of  his  theory  that  the  frame  is  part  of  the  picture. 

I  knew  Whistler  long  before  his  fame  began,  and 
long  after.  He  was  always  the  same  Whistler.  Of 
his  own  value  and  of  his  own  work  he  never  had  any 
doubt.  Popularity  was  never  with  him  a  measure  of 
merit.  Perhaps  he  never  was  so  sure  of  himself  as 
when  he  was  in  a  minority  of  one.  When  he  brought 
that  unlucky  action  against  Ruskin,  ending  in  a  verdict 
of  a  farthing  damages,  he  was  never  for  a  moment 
disconcerted.  I  was  in  court  with  him,  and  when  I 
held  out  my  hand  to  him  in  sympathy  with  his  defeat 
he  grasped  it  warmly  and  cried  out  : 

"  I  was  sure  you  would  see  what  a  great  triumph 
it  is." 

What  could  you  say  to  that  ?  I  always  thought 
his  case  badly  handled.  His  leading  counsel,  Mr. 
Serjeant  Parry,  was  an  able  advocate  in  a  common- 
place cause  but  quite  incapable  of  putting  Whistler's 
view  to  the  jury,  which  was  quite  incapable  of  seizing 
it  if  it  had  been  put.  The  great  painter  had  been 
grossly  libelled  by  the  great  critic,  yet  the  action  ought 
never  to  have  been  brought.  The  machinery  of  British 
justice  is  ill  adapted  for  judgments  upon  art.  Ruskin 
was  the  spoiled  child  of«critics:  wilful,  perverse,  whimsi- 


278       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

cal,  and  dangerous  because  he  was  both  brilUant  and 
sincere.  A  great  authority  with  the  pubHc,  then  and 
now  ;  but  ask  the  artists  what  they  thought  of  him. 
One  of  the  best  of  them,  whom  I  think  I  had  rather 
not  name,  said  of  him  :  "  He  is  never  right."  Another 
applied  to  Ruskin  what  Thiers  said  of  the  Third 
Napoleon  :  "  Une  grande  incafacite  meconnuer  But 
he  was  a  rhetorician  who  captivated  the  pubHc.  What 
more  could  you  ask  ? 

It  was  at  Whistler's  house  in  Tite  Street,  Chelsea, 
that  I  first  saw  the  woman  whose  beauty  was,  I  sup- 
pose, more  famous  than  any  other  of  her  time.  I  had 
gone  there  to  breakfast ;  a  twelve  o'clock  breakfast 
such  as  Whistler  liked  giving  in  those  days,  with  such 
American  delicacies  as  corn  bread  and  buckwheat 
cakes  to  astonish  the  dull  palates  of  his  British  guests. 
When  the  door  into  the  parlour  opened,  this  lady  was 
sitting  on  a  low  chair  in  the  corner  by  the  fire,  and 
the  light  of  the  fire  shone  on  her  face.  A  vision  never 
to  be  forgotten  ;  the  colouring  brilliant  and  at  the 
same  time  delicate  ;  the  attitude  all  grace.  There  was 
a  harmony  and  a  contrast  all  in  one  ;  the  harmony 
such  as  Whistler  loved  ;  the  contrast  such  as  it  pleased 
her  Maker  to  arrange,  between  softness  and  strength ; 
the  lines  of  the  woman's  full  body  flowing  gently  into 
each  other,  but  the  whole  impression  one  of  vital  force. 
There  was  no  one  else  in  the  room.  As  her  renown, 
presently  to  be  world-wide,  had  just  dawned  in  London, 
I  knew  who  it  must  be.  We  began  to  talk.  When 
Whistler  a  moment  later  came  in,  he  said  :  "  Of  course 
you  and  Mrs.  Langtry  know  each  other."  That  was 
all  the  introduction  we  ever  had. 

I  supposed  Whistler  was  going  to  do  her  portrait, 
but  I  cannot  remember  what  it  was  like.  The  one 
which    London    admired    next    May    in    the    Royal 


JAMES   M'NEILL   WHISTLER         279 

Academy  came  from  a  heavier  brush  than  his  and 
was  signed  Millais.  But  Mrs.  Langtry  was  the  despair 
of  all  the  portrait  painters.  Other  beautiful  women 
have  been,  and  still  are.  Whistler  himself  was  of  an 
uncompromising  nature  in  the  presence  of  beauty. 
The  story  of  Lady  Eden's  portrait  needs  no  retelling. 
The  portrait  of  Miss  Connie  Gilchrist  was  not  to  the 
taste  of  that  young  lady's  many  admirers.  It  hung  in 
the  studio  that  morning.  Whistler  was  not  a  man 
who  asked  for  an  opinion  on  his  work  or  expected 
you  to  give  it  unasked,  as  many  artists  do.  If  they  do 
not,  for  what  was  the  institution  of  Show  Sunday  in- 
vented ?  But  Mrs.  Langtry,  who  even  in  those  early 
days  passed  Acts  of  Parliament  for  her  private  use, 
took  command  of  the  situation  : 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Whistler,  what  a  lovely  portrait  !  I 
have  seen  Connie  Gilchrist  only  once  but  I'm  sure  it 
is  hers.  Nobody  but  you  could  have  done  it  so  beauti- 
fully." 

As  guests  we  could  have  no  other  opinion.  As 
critics  we  might  think  it  a  flimsy  piece  of  work,  as 
Whistler  in  his  heart  probably  did.  But  before  this 
he  had  said  : 

"  A  work  of  art  is  complete  when  it  expresses  the 
idea  in  the  mind  of  the  artist." 

He  varied  the  formula  but  he  held  to  his  opinion 
and  painted  on  it,  though  not  always.  Miss  Connie 
Gilchrist  with  all  her  celebrity  never,  I  think,  forced 
her  way  into  the  never  crowded  ranks  of  the  pro- 
fessional beauties,  of  whom  Mrs.  Langtry  was  the 
acknowledged  queen.  She  passed  early  in  life  from 
the  stage  of  the  Gaiety  Theatre  to  the  ranks  of  the 
aristocracy,  becoming  Countess  of  Orkney  in  1892. 
She  is  still  living.  What  has  happened  to  her  portrait 
I  know  not.     On  the  stage  she  had,  before  all  things, 


28o       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

la  heaiite  du  diable — that  is,  the  beauty  of  youth — 
having  begun  her  career  or  become  known  to  the 
public  and  to  the  gilded  youth  who  then  thronged 
that  theatre,  at  fourteen. 

I  stayed  on  after  the  company  had  drifted  away, 
and  Whistler  began  at  once  with  his  explosive  ques- 
tions : 

"  Of  course  you  knew  Mrs.  Langtry  ?  " 

"  I  had  never  seen  her." 

"  Then  you  had  never  seen  the  loveliest  thing  that 
ever  was.  Don't  tell  me  you  don't  think  her  perfect. 
It  doesn't  matter  what  you  think.  She  is  perfect. 
Her  beauty  is  simply  exquisite.  But  her  manner  is 
more  exquisite  still.    She  is  kindness  itself." 

I  was  in  no  mood  to  dispute  any  of  these  proposi- 
tions, though  when  I  saw  more  of  Mrs.  Langtry  later 
Whistler's  account  of  her  did  not  seem  to  me  quite 
complete.  But  with  or  without  Mrs.  Langtry, 
Whistler's  breakfasts  were  like  none  other  ever  given. 
You  could  not  have  a  Whistler  breakfast  without 
Whistler.  Certainly  his  conception  of  the  duties  of 
host  was  not  a  conventional  conception.  In  social  life, 
as  in  art,  conventions  were  to  him  so  many  objects  of 
contempt.  He,  too,  like  Mrs.  Langtry,  passed  private 
Acts  of  Parliament  for  his  private  use.  He  was 
hospitable,  kindly,  but  despotic.  The  Acts  of  Parlia- 
ment were  for  our  use,  too  ;  we  were  to  obey  them. 
None  of  us  minded,  only  it  was  sometimes  difficult  to 
know  when  they  were  passed,  and  what  they  were,  and 
when  they  were  repealed,  and  when  a  new  Act  came 
into  force.  Whistler,  from  the  head  of  his  table,  or 
at  any  other  table,  it  mattered  not  which,  laid  down 
the  law.     His  strident  voice  dominated  all  others. 

In  that  he  was  like  Hayward  or  Browning,  both  of 
whom,  when  they  chose  to  assert  themselves,  could 


JAMES    M'NEILL   WHISTLER         281 

overpower  the  whole  company.  But  both  Hayward 
and  Browning  were  men  o£  the  world  and  of  society. 
Whistler  was  neither.  He  went  much  into  the  world 
and  often  into  society.  But  he  went  where  he  liked  ; 
never  for  any  lesser  reason.  The  circle  in  which  he 
moved  was  of  his  own  creation.  Hayward  was  self- 
made  but  for  forty  years  a  great  social  force  in  the 
best  London.  He  would  raise  his  voice  if  he  had  a 
story  to  tell  for  which  he  wanted  a  gallery.  Browning 
was  content  with  those  nearest  him  till  he  had  a 
proposition  in  metaphysics  or  a  theory  of  music  to 
announce,  and  when  that  moment  came  it  was  useless 
to  compete  with  him  ;  nor  did  many  men  try ;  or  not 
twice. 

But  Whistler's  flashes  and  impulses  of  inspiration 
were  continuous.  The  subject  did  not  matter.  It 
might  be  a  dish  which  he  had  just  been  into  the  kitchen 
to  superintend.  It  might  be  an  outrageous  lampoon 
on  some  one  of  those  Enemies  the  making  of  whom 
he  held  to  be  a  "  Gentle  Art  "  ;  an  art  embalmed  in 
the  title  of  his  book.  It  might  be  a  sentence  of  homage 
to  Mrs.  Langtry.  In  any  of  these  cases  or  a  hundred 
others  he  disdained  privacy.  He  desired  to  give  the 
world  of  his  best,  and  desired  that  the  world  to  be 
benefited  should  be  as  large  as  possible.  He  poured 
out  the  riches  of  his  mind.  Never,  I  should  think,  was 
there  a  man  whose  confidence  in  himself  was  so  com- 
plete and  so  completely  justified.  He  was  a  match  for 
anybody.  His  power  of  retort  was  tremendous  and 
"multitudinous.  For  this  man  he  had  a  rapier  thrust 
and  for  the  next  a  bludgeon,  and  he  would  use  one 
with  just  the  same  sense  of  artistic  delight  as  the  other. 
I  am  not  sure  that  he  ever  met  his  match. 

People  used  to  pit  Mr.  Oscar  Wilde  against  him,  but 
Mr.  Oscar  Wilde  went  down  before  him  as  often  as 


282       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

he  tried  to  stand  up  to  the  master.  Men  whose  wits 
were  far  inferior  to  Whistler's  would  bowl  Wilde  over 
with  ease.  Mr.  Bernal  Osborne  did  ;  nay,  for  a  long 
time  Mr.  Bernal  Osborne  made  Wilde  his  butt,  and 
Wilde  had  no  defence.  He  had  no  courage.  Bernal 
Osborne  had  no  very  wonderful  intellectual  equipment, 
though  he  was  for  a  long  time  a  distinguished  figure  in 
London  society,  both  before  and  after  his  accom- 
plished daughter  married  the  late  Duke  of  St.  Albans. 
But  Osborne  had  a  dauntless  soul.  He  did  not  care 
whom  he  attacked  ;  nor  was  he  an  easy  man  to  arouse, 
still  less  to  put  down.  I  cannot  recollect  that  I  ever 
saw  him  in  collision  with  Whistler,  but  I  have  no 
doubt  what  the  result  would  have  been,  for  I  have 
seen  Whistler  in  many  a  duel  with  many  a  man  of 
whom  Osborne  was  not  the  equal,  and  I  never  knew 
Whistler  to  leave  the  field  defeated.  That  is  true  of 
him  in  all  the  circumstances,  and  they  are  many,  in 
which  I  have  met  him. 

It  has  been  said  of  Whistler,  truly  enough,  that  he 
was  proud  of  the  white  plume  in  his  black  hair.  But 
with  his  pride  went,  naturally,  a  certain  sensitiveness. 
He  wanted  his  little  tuft  of  white  treated  with  re- 
spect ;  as  a  flag.  It  was  sacred  ;  as  the  white  flag  was 
to  the  Comte  de  Chambord.  Most  people  respected 
Whistler's  wish,  if  not  all.  I  went  one  day  to  a 
lunch  given  by  a  lady  whom  her  friends  set  up  as  a 
rival  to  Mrs.  Langtry.  It  was  a  large  party.  When 
the  ladies  went  upstairs  most  of  the  men  were  bidden 
by  their  hostess  to  follow  as  soon  as  the  first  cigarette 
had  been  smoked.  Whistler  was  not  told  ;  on  the 
contrary,  a  man  was  asked  to  hold  him  in  talk  for  ten 
minutes.  Once  in  the  drawing-room,  the  hostess  pro- 
duced a  number  of  white  feathers,  one  of  which  she 
fastened  into  each  man's  hair,  in  front,  where  Whistler 


JAMES    M'NEILL   WHISTLER  283 

wore  his.  Then  she  marshalled  her  men  in  line,  facing 
the  door,  and  sent  word  to  Whistler  in  the  dining- 
room  that  he  was  staying  a  long  time  and  she  would 
like  him  to  come  up.  He  obeyed  and  when  he  opened 
the  door  of  the  drawing-room  found  himself  con- 
fronted with  a  line  of  black-haired  men,  each  decor- 
ated with  a  white  plume  in  imitation  of  his  own.  His 
face  turned  red  and  then  pale.  He  walked  slowly  past 
the  line  to  the  end  where  stood  his  hostess  enjoying 
what  she  thought  an  innocent  -plaisanterie.  But 
Whistler's  expression  had  in  it  much  more  of  tragedy 
than  of  comedy.  "  Ah,  yes,"  he  said,  "  very  pretty, 
very  pretty  indeed.  To  not  one  of  you  will  I  ever 
speak  again."  With  that  he  turned  his  back  on  his 
hostess  and  her  guests,  and  marched  out  of  the  room, 
and  downstairs,  and  out  of  the  house.  Yet  his  anger 
did  not  last. 

This  was  the  lady  whom  I  once  beheld  conversing 
long  in  a  drawing-room  with  Mr.  Bernal  Osborne. 
When  they  parted  I  said  to  him  : 

"  You  seem  to  admire  Mrs.  X." 

"  Yes,  I  do,  and  I  should  admire  her  still  more  if 
while  she  is  talking  to  me  she  would  not  make  eyes  at 
the  footman  over  my  shoulder." 

I  repeated  this  to  Whistler  who  replied  instantly  : 

"  Yes,  very  good,  very  good.  But  it  was  I  who 
said  it." 

He  made  an  extraordinary  use  of  his  imagination. 
It  affected  all  his  relations  in  life.  It  affected  his  views 
of  art,  quite  naturally,  but  also  his  views  of  property 
in  art,  or  in  his  own  art.  He  held,  in  at  least  one  case, 
that  a  picture  he  had  painted  and  sold  and  been  paid 
for  was  still  his  picture  to  do  as  he  liked  with.  He 
said  : 

"  How  can  an  artist  divest  himself  of  his  property 


284       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

in  his  own  offspring  ;  a  work  into  which  he  has  put  all 
his  genius,  all  his  art,  all  his  personality  ;  himself,  in 
fact  ?  " 

And  upon  that  he  acted.  I  never  doubted  he  was 
sincere.  He  could  look  at  such  a  question  from  his 
own  point  of  view  and  from  no  other.  Whistler,  like 
another  eminent  American,  might  well  have  said  : 

"  The  essence  of  any  struggle  for  healthy  liberty 
has  always  been  and  must  always  be  to  take  from  some 
one  man  or  class  of  men  the  right  to  enjoy  power,  or 
wealth,  or  position,  or  immunity,  which  has  not  been 
earned  by  service  to  his  or  their  fellows." 

Sir  William  Eden,  in  Whistler's  view,  had  not 
"  earned  "  the  picture  of  Lady  Eden  merely  by  paying 
for  it.  The  right  of  property  was  inherent  in  the 
creator  of  the  picture.  But  both  these  doctrines, 
which  are  complementary,  are  a  little  subversive  of 
those  on  which  society  is  founded. 

Not  less  characteristic  of  Whistler  is  another  in- 
cident which  befell  in  my  hearing  at  dinner.  He  told 
us  the  story  after  the  ladies  had  left  the  table. 

"  I  did  not  like  to  tell  it  while  those  lovely  creatures 
were  here  for  it  is  not  to  be  repeated  just  yet,  and 
though  they  are  lovely,  or  perhaps  because  they  are 
lovely,  they  will  gossip." 

He  then  explained  that  he  had  long  wished  to  paint 
the  portrait  of  Mr.  DisraeH.  After  trying  in  vain  to 
get  an  introduction  he  had  obtained  a  letter  from  a 
great  friend  of  the  Prime  Minister  and  gone  down  to 
Hughenden  with  it  : 

"  It  was  not  the  season  when  the  primroses  were 
coming  out,  which  Dizzy  said  he  had  never  been 
able  to  see  because  politics  kept  him  at  that  time  in 
London.  His  saying  that  was  one  of  the  reasons  which 
made  me  want  to  paint  him.     I  was  told  that  after 


JAMES    M'NEILL   WHISTLER         285 

luncheon  would  be  a  good  time  to  catch  him  walking 
in  the  park.  I  had  no  great  faith  in  my  letter  ;  at 
any  rate,  I  was  resolved  to  meet  him  face  to  face,  and 
I  found  a  back  gate  into  the  grounds  near  the  house  ; 
slipped  in  and  waited." 

He  went  on  to  tell  us  at  greater  length  than  I  can 
quote  how  at  last  the  great  man  appeared,  and  how 
when  Whistler  approached  him,  letter  in  hand,  he  said  : 

"  No,  I  want  no  letter,  You  are  Whistler  and  I  am 
glad  to  see  you.  I  suppose  you  wish  to  paint  my 
portrait." 

There  was  a  conversation  which  lasted  many 
minutes,  and  ended  by  Disraeli  assuring  Whistler  he 
could  give  him  sittings  but  could  not  then  fix  the 
dates.    They  parted  on  the  friendliest  terms. 

We  all  listened  with  delight.  The  artist  was  vivid, 
dramatic,  picturesque,  and  gave  us  there  and  then  a 
portrait  of  Disraeli  and  of  his  manner  of  speech  and 
gesture  that  was  lifelike.  His  narrative  lasted  alto- 
gether some  twenty  minutes  and  ended  with  a  fresh 
caution  to  all  of  us  to  keep  his  secret,  which  we  all 
promised. 

It  was  a  romance  from  beginning  to  end.  Nobody 
had  given  him  a  letter  to  Disraeli.  He  had  never  met 
Disraeli.  He  had  never  been  to  Hughenden.  There 
was  no  question  of  a  portrait.  Some  time  after,  I 
asked  him  whether  the  sittings  had  begun.  He 
laughed  delightedly  : 

"  Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you  believed  that 
story  ?  But,  of  course,  I  saw  you  did  at  the  time.  It 
was  just  an  experiment,  my  dear  fellow.  I  thought  I 
should  like  to  sec  whether  I  could  take  you  all  in.  I 
wonder  whether  I  shouldn't  do  well  to  write  a  novel." 

"  Religion,"  said  Daniel  Webster,  "  has  nothing  to 
do  with  politics.    There  it  makes  men  mad." 


286       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

And  morals  have  nothing  to  do  with  art,  and  art 
was  the  only  thing  with  which  Whistler  cared  to  have 
anything  to  do  ;  and  he  had  a  set  of  art-morals  as 
inflexible  as  those  of  the  great  men  of  the  Renaissance 
who  painted  portraits  of  their  mistresses  and  called 
them  Madonnas.  He  chose  to  amuse  himself  at  our 
expense.  I  wish  I  could  be  amused  again  in  the  same 
way.  But  there  was  only  one  Whistler  and  there  will 
never  be  another.  He  was  absolutely  the  same  man  in 
adversity,  of  which  he  had  bitter  experiences,  and  in 
prosperity,  which  came  to  him  late  and  perhaps  never 
with  full  hands.  Never  was  he  more  imperious  than 
when  the  world  looked  coldly  on  him  ;  never  more 
triumphant  than  in  defeat  and  neglect.  If  people  tell 
you  that  he  was  capricious,  overbearing,  self-centred, 
vain,  you  need  not  pay  too  much  attention.  Con- 
stancy and  courage  were  the  foundation  of  his  char- 
acter. 

He  came  sometimes  to  a  certain  London  club  which 
was,  and  is,  a  rendezvous  for  men  who  bring  to  it 
exceptional  gifts  and  who  can  talk.  If  it  were  permis- 
sible to  mention  names  many  of  them  would  be  recog- 
nized in  America  as  readily  as  here.  But,  on  the 
whole.  Whistler  had  not  his  equal  in  this  brilliant 
group.  No  other  mind  was  so  supple  as  his ;  none 
other  had  quite  the  same  gift  of  spontaneity ;  none 
moved  so  quickly  ;  none  had  so  singular  an  originality. 
A  retort  came  from  him  like  a  flash  of  lighting  ;  often 
a  growl  of  thunder  following.  He  liked  applause  and 
got  it  in  large  measure.  If  it  was  denied  him  he  was 
content  with  his  own  approval. 

Whistler's  quarrel  with  the  Royal  Academy  was 
only  one  more  illustration  of  the  unfitness  of  that 
astonishing  body  to  be  the  guardian  of  British  art  and 
artists.     The  only  thing  it  guarded  effectually  was 


JAMES   M'NEILL   WHISTLER         287 

Philistinism  in  art  ;  a  duty  in  which  it  had  the  help 
of  other  institutions  less  well  known  but  powerful  in 
their  way.  It  was  not  the  Academy  which  made  known 
Whistler's  genius  to  the  British  public,  nor  any  of  the 
other  art  societies  flourishing  then  and  still  in  this 
British  capital.  But  there  came  a  time  when  his  fame 
could  hardly  much  longer  be  disputed.  The  Portrait 
of  his  mother  hung  in  the  Luxembourg,  and  the  Paris 
Salon  had  done  him  the  justice  which  Burlington 
House  denied.  Whistler  had  long  since  left  London 
for  Paris.  The  incident  I  am  going  to  retell  was 
described  in  a  letter  to  The  Times  shortly  after  Whist- 
ler's death,  and  I  then  named  the  Royal  Academy  as 
the  body  which  had  sent  the  invitation.  But  the 
Secretary  of  the  Royal  Academy  explained  that  there 
was  no  record  of  any  such  invitation,  and  he  was  quite 
certain  none  such  had  been  sent.  I  must  therefore 
presume  that  it  came  from  some  other  English  society, 
and  I  must  regret  having  wrongly  attributed  it  to  the 
Royal  Academy,  and  regret  still  more  that  the  Royal 
Academy  is  not  entitled  to  the  credit. 

I  got  a  letter  from  him  dated  Brussels,  which  was  a 
cry  of  victory.  "  Read  the  enclosed,"  he  said.  "  At 
last  they  have  owned  up.  They  acknowledge  they 
were  wrong,  they  confess  their  sins,  they  appeal  for 
help."  The  enclosure  was  a  letter  from  the  Secretary 
of  one  of  these  art-societies,  with  a  circular  announcing 
an  exhibition  of  pictures,  and  to  this,  in  handsome 
terms,  they  asked  Whistler  to  contribute. 

"  You  won't  suppose  for  a  moment,"  exclaimed 
Whistler,  "  that  I  shall  send  them  anything  of  mine. 
Read  my  letter  to  them." 

I  read  it  with  dismay.  It  was  in  his  most  belligerent 
vein  ;  a  letter  of  flouts  and  jeers  ;  reviling  them  for 
their    old   injustice,   and    taunting    them   with   their 


288       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

present  futile  effort  to  put  themselves  right.  I  thought 
it  unhappy  and  ill-judged.  I  wrote  Whistler  begging 
him  not  to  send  it.  They  had  offered  him  honourable 
amends  for  the  past.  To  reject  it  with  insult  would 
only  be  to  put  himself  instead  of  them  in  the  wrong. 
His  answer  came  by  telegraph. 

"  So  sorry  you  too  have  gone  over  to  the  enemy." 
From  that  day  to  the  day  of  his  death  I  never  again 
met  Whistler  nor  heard  from  him.  The  book  was 
closed.  It  was  impossible  to  reproach  him  ;  impossible 
to  forget  him  or  his  friendship  ;  you  could  only  regret. 
You  accepted  him  joyfully  as  he  was  or  not  at  all ; 
with  all  his  caprices ;  with  a  certain  feminine  irres- 
ponsibility, or  perhaps  instability,  of  nature  from 
which  he  was  never  free.  And  if  once  you  had  an 
affection  for  him  the  affection  remained,  as  the  admir- 
ation of  the  world  for  the  great  artist  remains  and  will 
ever  remain. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

SIR   WILLIAM    SCHWENCK   GILBERT 

*"  I  ''HE  man  who  has  amused  them  is  the  man 
to  whom  people  are  grateful,  and  the  papers 
overflow  with  eulogies  on  Sir  W.  S.  Gilbert.  The 
cable  says  the  American  papers  do  likewise.  Not 
only  eulogies  but  anecdotes  abound.  It  is  as  if 
every  story,  every  repartee,  every  pun  or  quip  of 
his  had  been  stored  up  as  it  appeared,  and  now  they 
fill  columns.  It  may  not  be  possible  to  quote  one 
saying  of  his  which  has  not  been  quoted  during 
these  last  few  days,  and  especially  the  day  after 
his  death,  which  only  proves  that  the  obituary  pigeon- 
hole had  long  since  been  well  stuffed.  I  will  try  to 
repeat  nothing  that  has  been  in  print. 

Not  much  remains  for  me,  therefore,  except 
to  give  you  a  personal  impression  and  perhaps  one 
or  two  personal  incidents  which  have  escaped  the 
general  chronicler  because  they  were  personal  to 
Gilbert  and  to  me.  I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that 
between  us  there  was  anything  like  a  personal  in- 
timacy. There  never  was.  Twice,  at  least,  we  stood 
upon  the  verge  of  a  personal  quarrel,  the  last  time 
only  a  few  weeks  ago.  My  acquaintance  with  him 
was  a  social  or  club  acquaintance.  The  truth  is, 
he  had  a  warlike  nature.  His  panegyrists  lay  stress 
on  the  kindliness  of  his  satire  in  his  plays  and  operas. 
That  is  true  enough,  and  it  is  true  also  that  he  was 
full  of  kindliness  in  his  relations  with  his  own  world. 
u  289 


290       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

But  it  is  true  also  that  he  had  an  arbitrary  temper. 
He  liked  to  domineer.  He  liked  his  own  way  better 
than  yours  or  mine.  And  I  should  think  he  got  it 
as  often  as  most  men.  Ask  the  members  of  the 
theatre  companies  whom  he  stage-managed.  He  was 
a  tyrant  at  rehearsals,  and  I  will  only  add  that  it 
would  be  better  for  the  English  stage  if  more  English 
authors  had  a  knowledge  and  authority  equal  to  his. 

When  I  said  he  was  warlike  I  might  have  said 
military.  He  looked  a  cavalry  colonel.  He  was  tall, 
square-shouldered,  well-set-up,  with  a  square  fore- 
head, a  piercing  eye,  sometimes  with  an  angry  light 
in  it ;  a  red-bronze  face,  a  well-trimmed  moustache, 
grey  in  later  years,  and  an  air  of  command.  Indeed, 
he  had  meant  to  be  a  soldier,  a  gunner,  as  they  say 
here,  meaning  an  artillery  officer,  but  the  examination 
was  put  off  till  he  was  over  age  and  he  had  to  content 
himself  with  militia  service  and  the  rank  of  captain 
in  the  Royal  Aberdeenshire  Highlanders,  retiring 
after  fifteen  years'  service  as  brevet-major. 

But  he  never  really  retired.  He  only  transferred 
to  civil  life  his  habit  of  giving  orders  ;  not  on  the 
stage  only.  When  he  had  made  a  fortune,  a  large 
one,  and  become  a  country  gentleman  and  taken 
his  seat  on  the  Board  of  Middlesex  Magistrates, 
he  issued  orders  to  his  brother  Justices  of  the  Peace 
with  a  severe  politeness  which  disguised  the  form 
but  left  the  substance.  He  was  proud,  rightly  enough, 
of  the  position  he  had  won  and  of  his  influence  on 
the  bench.  I  should  despair  of  explaining  to  American 
readers  the  position  and  greatness  of  the  English 
Justice  of  the  Peace,  known  to  the  discontented  and 
unsuccessful  aspirants  to  that  place  as  "  The  Great 
Unpaid  " ;  a  phrase  which  might  come  from  Dickens, 
and  perhaps  did,  but  I  do  not  know  Dickens.    Nothing 


SIR   WILLIAM    SCHWENCK    GILBERT     291 

could  be  more  characteristic  than  the  remark  of  Mr. 
Carlyon,  chairman  of  the  Wealdstone  Petty  Sessions. 
He  thought  Gilbert  so  eminent  a  colleague  that  he 
proposed  a  resolution  of  sympathy  with  his  widow, 
although  Sir  William  had  never  been  chairman,  and 
it  had  never  been  the  custom  to  give  official  expres- 
sion to  their  official  sorrow  for  a  magistrate  who  had 
not  held  that  exalted  rank.  Justices  of  the  Peace  are 
appointed  justices  by  no  less  a  personage  than  the 
Lord  High  Chancellor,  whom  the  Radicals  have  lately 
attacked  in  Parliament  because  he  would  not  recognize 
party  services  as  a  title  to  these  judicial  places. 

Gilbert  liked  to  refer  to  his  magistracy  and  to 
describe  cases  with  which  he  had  dealt.  He  desired 
us  all  to  appreciate  his  position  and  authority.  A 
friend  who  enlivens  his  life  by  "  pulling  the  leg  "  of 
friends  who  will  let  him  has  been  known  to  condole 
solemnly  with  Gilbert  on  his  magisterial  inferiority  and 
his  inability  to  make  his  wishes  supreme  on  the  bench. 

"  I  am  sure,  Sir  William,  the  interests  of  justice 
would  be  much  better  served  if  your  colleagues  did 
not  overrule  you  so  often." 

The  taunt  stung,  and  the  great  humorist  of  the 
stage  had  not  humour  enough  to  cover  his  own 
case,  but  resented  the  suggestion  and  insisted  that 
his  judicial  opinions  were  respected  and  followed. 
Said  the  leg-puller  : 

"  Once  in  each  three  months  I  can  get  this  same 
rise  out  of  Gilbert.    No  man  is  so  easy  to  draw." 

On  all  subjects  Gilbert  took  himself  seriously. 
It  was  only  his  friends  and  the  public  who  were 
proper  subjects  of  jest.  His  knowledge  of  the  stage 
was  so  vast  and  his  success  as  a  dramatist  so  immense 
that  he  could  understand  no  trifling  with  this  subject 
or   with   himself   as   dramatic   author.      Whether   he 


292       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

ever  understood  how  much  of  his  success  was  due 
to  his  association  with  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan  and  Mr. 
D'Oyly  Carte  may  be  doubted.  He  valued  himself 
at  least  as  much  on  the  dramatic  work  which  was 
exclusively  his  own  as  on  the  "  books  "  which  Sullivan 
put  to  music  and  D'Oyly  Carte  financed.  The 
public  did  not  always  agree  with  him,  nor  the  critics, 
but  he  never  yielded  to  the  public  or  the  critics. 
Criticism  he  resented.  I  once  heard  an  eminent 
dramatist,  happily  still  living,  remark  that  the  critics 
know  nothing  of  the  stage — "  absolutely  nothing." 
I  suspect  Gilbert  thought  so  ;  with  reference  to  plays 
of  his  which  they  disapproved. 

It  seemed  that  he  sought  for  a  personal  motive 
in  any  criticism  that  was  not  to  his  mind.  Seemed  ? 
Nay,  he  did.  There  came  a  letter  from  him  some 
two  months  ago  saying  that  my  attack  on  him  in 
the  volume  of  Anglo-American  Memories  he  had  been 
reading  could  have  been  inspired  only  by  personal 
animosity,  and  he  wished  to  know  at  what  I  had  taken 
offence.  I  could  only  answer  that  there  was  not, 
so  far  as  I  knew,  an  allusion  to  him  of  any  kind  in 
the  book.  He  retorted  that  I  had  spoken  of  the  jingle 
about  "  Howells  and  James  young  men,"  of  which 
I  said  the  music-hall  was  the  proper  home.  "  You 
must  know,"  continued  Gilbert,  "  that  the  verse 
is  from  my  opera  Patience,  and  the  reference  to 
the  music-hall  is  insulting."  I  was  obliged,  though 
at  the  risk  of  giving  further  offence,  to  explain  that 
I  did  not  know  it,  and  that  nothing  could  be  further 
from  my  mind  than  to  affront  a  writer  for  whom 
I  had  always  felt  and  expressed  a  true  admiration. 
This  he  accepted,  though  not  without  a  suggestion 
that  I  ought  to  have  known  the  line  was  his.  So 
finally   we   shook   hands   again   and   the   sky   cleared, 


SIR   WILLIAM    SCHWENCK   GILBERT     293 

and  I  am  glad  now  to  remember  that  it  did.  Not 
once  could  it  have  occurred  to  him  that  while  he 
was  complaining  of  my  music-hall  remark  a  one-act 
piece  of  his  was  at  that  moment  being  played  at  the 
Coliseum  in  London,  the  music-hall  for  which  it  was 
written. 

Once  before  he  had  been  angry  because  I  quoted 
in  The  Tribune  an  epigram  of  his  upon  New  York. 
He  had  just  returned  from  America  and  his  gibe  at 
Manhattan,  bitter  but  quite  just  at  that  time,  was 
flung  broadcast  about  London.  I  heard  it,  as  others 
heard  it,  not  from  him,  yet  he  thought  the  repetition 
of  it  in  print  a  violation  of  confidence  and  resented 
it,  and  it  was  long  before  his  wrath  was  appeased. 
He  had,  in  truth,  a  feminine  element  in  him,  and  the 
only  point  of  view  he  could  take  was  the  personal 
view.  But  he  is  gone  and  I  will  not  again  print  what 
he  then  said.  If  I  write  with  some  freedom  about 
him  it  is  because  I  think  that  not  otherwise  can  any 
right  impression  of  him  be  given,  and  because  I 
think  he  must  on  the  whole  gain  by  a  free  account 
of  his  character  and  his  way  of  life. 

His  convictions  of  stage  discipline,  and  even  the 
maxims  of  war  on  which  some  of  them  seemed  to  be 
founded,  were  applied  with  equal  rigour  to  the  training 
of  actresses  in  whom  he  perceived  the  seeds  of  art. 
One  of  them  was  Miss  Lily  Hanbury,  who  had  natural 
gifts  which  in  Gilbert's  hands  became  artificial. 
The  other  was  no  less  a  person  than  Miss  Julia  Neilson. 
At  the  house  of  a  friend  in  South  Kensington,  Mr. 
Heseltine,  a  lover  of  all  art,  with  many  beautiful 
possessions,  I  met  now  and  then  both  Miss  Julia 
Neilson  and  Gilbert,  and  from  both  Miss  Neilson 
and  Miss  Hanbury  I  heard  interesting  accounts  of 
the  tuition  he  bestowed  on  each.    He  was  not  content 


294       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

to  rely  on  nature  or  on  natural  aptitudes.  He  had 
Procrustean  rules  of  stage  training  to  which  all  natural 
gifts  must  be  made  to  bend.  So  many  steps  to  a 
particular  spot ;  such  a  gesture  to  express  such  an 
emotion  ;  the  arms  to  be  moved  in  accord  with  a 
settled  theory  of  plastic  effect  ;  the  tones  of  the  voice 
to  be  such  as  the  master  thought  most  likely  to  come 
over  the  footlights  ;  and  so  on. 

If  in  Miss  Julia  Neilson's  mature  methods  there 
be  a  suspicion  of  anything  rigid  or  arbitrary,  it 
may  be  traced  to  these  iron-bound  laws  laid  down 
for  and  enforced  upon  her  by  Gilbert  in  the  days 
of  her  girlhood.  She  was  then,  I  think,  not  more 
than  eighteen ;  with  an  original  beauty  of  which 
the  copy  may  now  be  seen  in  her  daughter.  Miss 
Neilson-Terry,  the  newest  and  perhaps  strongest 
of  debutantes,  playing  Viola  in  Tzvelfth  Night  at 
seventeen  with  a  brilliant  self-possession  and  ease 
of  movement  in  her  boy  costume.  In  her  case  there 
is  no  Gilbert  to  control  her  individual  impulses, 
and  it  is  interesting  to  see  how  the  daughter  wanders 
at  will  in  the  Duke's  Illyrian  palace,  or  as  Rosalind 
in  the  Forest  of  Arden.  An  unconquered  freedom 
hers,  if  ever  there  were  one.  In  his  dealing  with 
the  formed  artists  to  whom  he  entrusted  his  stage 
characters  Gilbert  was  not  less  absolute.  For  the 
first  night  or  the  three-hundredth  night  his  will 
was  law,  and  there  were  penalties  for  a  departure  from 
it  if  ever  any  actor  or  actress  proved  hardy  enough 
to  vary  by  a  hair's-breadth  the  instructions  he  imposed. 

Certainly  Gilbert's  influence  on  the  stage  was, 
in  respect  of  morals,  altogether  good.  He  himself 
said  he  had  never  cared  to  transgress  the  unwritten 
law  of  English  life  which  would  keep  the  theatres 
open    to   the   English   girl ;    as    the    French   theatres 


SIR   WILLIAM    SCHWENCK   GILBERT     295 

are  not  to  the  French  girl.  He  added  that  he  had 
never  found  the  Hmitations  a  restriction  upon  his 
dramatic  work  or  aims.  But  he  went  beyond  that. 
A  story  will  show  you  how  far. 

There  was  during  the  period  of  his  best  operas 
an  English  singer  who  both  as  singer  and  actress 
was  at  least  the  equal  of  the  best  who  won  fame 
at  the  Savoy.  Musical  critics  thought  her  voice 
and  training  both  of  a  high  order.  I  asked  Gilbert 
why  she  had  never  sung  for  him.     He  answered  : 

"  Because  my  companies  consist  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men. The  singer  you  name  was  for  a  short  time  with 
us  during  rehearsals,  but  she  was  impossible." 

And  he  explained  why  she  was  impossible.  The 
anecdote  is  not  suitable  for  print  but  to  Gilbert's 
mind  it  was  conclusive.  He  drew  a  broad  line  between 
the  Savoy  operas  and  musical  comedy  or  what  was  in 
those  days  known  as  burlesque.  He  would  tolerate 
no  licence  on  or  off  the  stage.  He  was  a  more  im- 
placable censor  than  the  Lord  Chamberlain  ;  and  over 
the  Lord  Chamberlain  or  his  reader,  Mr.  Redford, 
he  had  this  advantage  :  that  whereas  Mr.  Redford 
knew  only  what  was  in  the  manuscript  submitted 
to  him,  Gilbert  was  his  own  producer  of  plays  and 
no  look  or  gesture  or  innuendo  escaped  him.  While 
he  lived  and  while  his  operas  at  the  Savoy  held  the 
town,  and  while  his  plays  were  an  attraction  to  a 
more  select  public,  his  influence  was  a  very  potent 
one.  There  was  a  period  of  a  quarter  of  a  century 
during  which  it  was  vital,  and  was  always  a  purifying 
influence,  and  always  tended  to  bring  literature  and 
dramatic  art  into  closer  relations.  That  is  not  all 
but  with  that  we  may  well  be  content,  as  with  his 
seventy-three  years  of  completed  achievement  and  with 
his  death  in  a  generous  effort  to  save  a  younger  life. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

MLLE.    AIMEE   DESCLEE— HER   ART— HER 
LETTERS— HER   LIFE 

T^  FADING  lately  proofs  of  some  of  these  Memories 
I  came  upon  a  sentence  about  Mile.  Aimee 
Desclee.  Of  her  I  undertook  to  say  something. 
It  was  a  promise  of  which  I  needed  no  reminding, 
for  if  there  is  anything  of  which  I  have  a  vivid  memory 
it  is  of  her  and  her  acting.  In  America  she  was  un- 
known. She  never  crossed  the  Atlantic.  In  London 
she  was  not  unknown,  for  she  played  here  during 
one  season  at  the  Princess's  Theatre,  but  she  is  for- 
gotten. Often  as  we  moralize  on  the  oblivion  which 
is  the  early  fate  of  almost  all  great  actors,  this  is  the 
most  melancholy  of  all.  For  Desclee  was  the  greatest 
of  emotional  actresses,  and  nothing  is  so  transitory 
as  an  emotion  except  the  expression  of  it  on  the  stage. 
M.  Alexandre  Dumas,  fils,  with  whom  as  an  author 
her  fame  as  an  actress  is  for  ever  bound  up,  says 
of  Desclee  without  any  qualification  that  in  her  art 
she  was  the  first.     He  adds  : 

"  It  was  for  us  to  write  Le  Misanthrofe ;  she 
would  have  been  Celimene.  It  was  for  us  to  write 
Romeo ;  she  would  have  been  Juliet.  We  have 
done  only  what  we  could  ;  she  has  done  more  than 
she  ought,  and  thus  it  is  that  she  killed  herself." 

I  saw  Aimee  Desclee  often  in  Paris  at  the  Gymnase, 
and  often  in  London  at  the  Princess's.  In  neither 
city  was  she  one  of  that  glittering  company  of  artists 

296 


MLLE.    AIMEE   DESCLEE  297 

whose  celebrity  lay  outside  of  her  art.  I  do  not  mean 
that  she  led  a  life  of  order  ;  she  did  not  ;  but  that 
the  splendour  of  a  lawless  existence  had  no  attraction 
for  her.  The  truth  about  the  matter  is  to  be  found 
in  that  astonishing  book,  Lettres  de  Aimee  Desclee  a 
Fanfan,  published  in  Paris  in  1 895  ;  a  human  docu- 
ment if  ever  there  were  one.  But  it  is  one  which 
ought  never  to  have  seen  the  light  of  day.  The 
editor  of  it  is  M.  Paul  Duplan,  a  name  of  no  great 
authority  in  literature.  But  the  true  author  of  it 
was  M.  Alexandre  Dumas  the  younger.  He  inspired 
it,  and  for  it  he  must  be  held  responsible.  He  wanted 
at  all  costs  a  record  of  the  career,  of  the  genius,  of 
the  brilliant  personality  which  he  had  enlisted  in  the 
service  of  his  drama  ;  of  the  actress  for  whom  he 
wrote  three  of  his  best  plays,  and  to  whom  he  had 
been  indebted  for  an  interpretation  of  a  kind  which 
no  other  actress  could  have  given  him.  He  might 
well  have  written  her  life  or  paid  an  adequate  tribute 
to  the  actress.  He  preferred  instead  to  publish,  or 
to  sanction  the  publishing,  it  is  the  same  thing,  of 
her  letters  to  her  lover.  That  the  pubHc  might  be 
sure  to  remember  the  actress  and  the  plays  she  had 
acted,  he  flung  them  the  woman. 

It  is  not  known  who  Fanfan  was.  He  has  earned 
a  sort  of  anonymous  immortality  and  the  name 
which  Desclee  gave  him  will  be  remembered  by  her 
letters.  All  that  can  be  said  about  him  is  that  he 
was  an  officer  of  the  French  army. 

But  to  M.  Paul  Duplan  Fanfan  was  known.  They 
were  kinsmen  and  friends.  He  too  died  young.  His 
portrait  is  by  the  side  of  Desclee's  in  M.  Duplan's 
study. 

"  There  he  is,  as  I  knew  him,  with  his  happy, 
grave,  good  look  ;  in  uniform,  his  chest  starred  with 


298       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

decorations.  A  tall  young  fellow,  carrying  jauntily, 
intelligently,  a  fine  soldier's  name  ;  well  taught,  a 
man  of  letters,  with  a  marked  elegance  of  manner, 
an  expressive  face,  a  soldier's  face,  made  more  soldierly 
by  a  long  moustache  which  his  mistress,  the  gamine 
or  mome  as  he  calls  her,  used  to  love  to  lift,  '  to  see 
what  there  was  underneath,  and  to  find  what  she  was 
looking  for,  white  teeth  and  kisses.'  " 

And  that  seems  to  be  all  we  are  likely  to  know  of 
Fanfan,  save  what  Desclee  herself  tells  us  in  her 
letters.  While  the  soul  of  the  woman  who  loved 
him  was  stripped  naked,  his  identity  was  carefully 
concealed.  I  would  print  his  name  if  I  knew  it, 
but  I  do  not.  I  have  often  asked.  Nobody  seemed 
to  know,  unusual  as  it  is  in  Paris  for  secrets  of  that 
kind  to  remain  secrets.  It  is  fair  to  say  that  the 
French  standard  of  honour  is  on  this  one  point  less 
rigid  or  less  universal  than  in  England  or  in  America. 
A  French  lover  kisses  and  tells ;  though  Fanfan 
perhaps  did  not.  The  certainty  or  the  possibility 
that  he  will  tell  ought  to  put  virtue,  and  also  vice, 
on  its  guard.  It  is  not  quite  clear  that  it  does.  A 
French  writer  like  Dumas,  of  the  first  order  as  a 
writer  of  plays,  betrays  the  confidence  a  woman 
gives  him  when  she  trusts  him  with  letters,  her  own 
and  another's. 

The  public  which  thinks  itself  the  gainer  by  this 
looseness  of  honour  may  be  disposed  to  condone 
the  offence.  M.  de  Guibert  must  have  been  a  con- 
senting party  to  the  printing  of  the  letters  of  Mile, 
de  Lespinasse,  incomparable  letters  as  they  are,  yet, 
like  those  of  Desclee,  letters  all  passion.  But  since 
the  letters  of  Mile,  de  Lespinasse  were  written 
a  century  and  a  half  ago  and  the  letters  of  Desclee 
only  yesterday,  the  offence  in  this  last  case  seems  less 


MLLE.    AIMEE   DESCLEE  299 

pardonable.  It  is  not  certain  how  far  M.  de  Guibert 
was  really  in  love  with  Mile,  de  Lespinasse,  or  whether 
he  returned  her  passion.  The  inference  you  draw 
from  Desclee's  letters  is  that  Fanfan  really  did  care 
for  her,  though  for  no  very  long  time,  and  of  the 
nature  of  the  relations  between  them  there  is  no 
doubt. 

A  worse  thing  has  to  be  said  of  Dumas.  He  pub- 
lishes letters  from  which  you  cannot  but  suppose, 
nor  doubt  you  are  meant  to  suppose,  that  at  one 
time  Desclee  was  in  love  with  him.  Her  love  for 
him  he  first  rejects,  then  proclaims.  He  is  not  a 
man  of  too  many  scruples.  We  are  allowed  to  under- 
stand that  many  other  actresses  have  flung  themselves 
at  his  head,  vainly.  With  his  abstention,  morals 
have  nothing  to  do.  But  he  assures  us  that,  as  between 
author  and  actress,  he  considers  such  relations  in- 
convenient and  compromising;  a  business  mistake, 
in  fact.  His  relations  with  other  women  he  blazoned 
abroad.  Not  a  few  of  his  scenes  of  love  in  his  plays 
are  understood  to  be  autobiographical ;  especially  if 
with  women  of  fashion  and  title.  One  such  woman 
asked  him  : 

"  Mais  ou  done  avez-vous  etudie  toutes  ces  femmes- 
la  ?     Chez  elles  ?  " 

"  Non,  madame,  chez  moi." 

Against  which  may  be  set  the  pathetic  saying  of 
Desclee,  from  out  her  life  of  hardship  and  poverty 
and  truth  to  art  : 

"  Mon  amour  n'a  jamais  ete  un  amour  venal ;  et 
la  preuve,  c'est  mon  cinquicme  etage  et  mon  piano  de 
location." 

Hers  had  indeed  been  a  life  of  struggle.  Twice 
she  had  appealed  to  Paris,  and  twice  in  vain.  Paris 
was    at    that    time    busy   in    burning   incense    before 


300       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Mile.  Rose  Cheri.  If  the  public  had  eyes  for  any 
other  they  looked  to  the  Theatre  Fran^ais,  where 
Madeleine  Brohan  was  still  in  the  full  bloom  of  her 
talent  ;  where  Croizette  had  established  the  position 
which  Sarah  Bernhardt  was  just  challenging  ;  where 
there  was  a  whole  group  of  artists  we  shall  never 
see  again.  It  was  after  these  two  failures  that  Dumas 
one  night  found  Desclee  acting  in  Brussels,  and  went 
round  to  her  box  to  tell  her  that  gifts  like  hers  could 
bring  her  the  fame  that  was  her  due  in  Paris  only. 

"  No,"  said  Desclee,  "  I  have  shaken  the  dust 
of  Paris  off  my  feet.     I  will  never  go  back." 

Dumas  pleaded  with  her,  promised  to  use  his 
influence  with  Montigny  at  the  Gymnase,  promised 
her  a  play,  promised  her  success.  She  hesitated 
long,  finally  yielded,  went  back  to  Paris,  and  again 
failed.  It  was  not  till  she  created  Meilhac's  Froufrou 
that  she  finally  conquered  the  stubborn  public  of 
the  City  of  Light. 

In  truth,  Desclee  had  much  against  her  in  that 
long  battle,  and  her  best  self  was  probably  never 
revealed  till  success  came.  She  needed  the  inspiration 
which  only  victory  can  give.  I  never  saw  her  till 
after  the  contest  was  over  between  them.  She  was, 
at  first  sight,  disappointing.  There  stepped  out 
from  the  wings  a  plain  little  woman,  none  too  well 
dressed,  without  much  symmetry  of  figure  or  grace 
of  movement.  If  you  looked  for  beauty  you  hardly 
found  it  except  in  the  beauty  of  brown  eyes  and  a 
broad,  low,  Greek  forehead.  What  you  saw  was 
almost  insignificant,  but  what  you  felt  you  had  never 
felt  before,  unless  perchance  you  had  seen  Rachel. 
Different  as  the  two  were,  they  had  this  in  common, 
the  power  of  taking  possession  of  an  audience  with- 
out a  word  spoken.     Nobody  has  yet  found  the  word 


MLLE.    AIMEE   DESCLEE  301 

or  phrase  which  really  describes  or  defines  this  power. 
You  may  say  it  is  magnetic,  or  sympathetic,  or  hyp- 
notic, but  that  does  not  carry  us  far.  What  Rachel 
did,  what  Desclee  did,  and  what  no  other  actress  I 
have  seen  could  do,  was  to  create  a  communion  of 
souls  between  herself  and  the  men  and  women  who 
were  before  her.  Desclee's  was  a  soul  of  fire.  By 
some  process  she  herself  could  not  make  clear,  the 
fire  passed  from  hers  to  yours. 

In  such  a  part  as  the  Princesse  Georges  the  first 
words  of  the  piece  are  electric,  but  before  they 
were  uttered  the  spark  had  found  its  way  from  her 
to  you.  The  entree  en  scene  is,  as  Dumas  wrote  it, 
masterly,  abrupt,  rapid,  em-poignant^  but  as  Desclee 
acted  it  the  lightning  is  playing  about  the  house  while 
the  first  sentence  remains  unspoken. 

Severine  has  been  rendered  by  many  an  actress 
since,  including  Sarah  Bernhardt  herself.  But  when 
you  had  seen  Desclee  in  it  the  piece  became  another 
piece  with  anybody  else.  In  technique,  in  range, 
in  much  else,  Sarah  was  superior  to  Desclee.  But  in 
temperament  Desclee  stood  alone.  She  had  passion 
and  the  power  of  expressing  passion  in  a  supreme 
degree.  It  was  not  men  only  who  felt  it.  I  once 
sat  next  a  lady  who  saw  Desclee  as  the  Princesse 
Georges  for  the  first  time.  This  lady  had,  in  fact, 
never  seen  her  in  anything.  As  the  curtain  went 
down  on  the  first  act  she  said  : 

"  I  have  never  had  an  experience  like  this.  When 
you  told  me  what  I  was  to  expect  I  thought  you 
must  be  in  love  with  Desclee.  But  what  you  told 
me  was  nothing  to  what  I  feel." 

Then  a  pause  ;  then  : 

"  Whether  you  are  in  love  with  Desclee  or  not, 
I  am.     No  man  ever  loved  like  that.     No  passion  I 


302       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

have  known  or  felt  in  any  man  or  in  myself  is  like 
Desclee's." 

It  was  not,  therefore,  sexual,  or  not  mainly  so. 
It  was  a  passion  of  the  soul ;  not  intellectual  first  of 
all,  nor  was  the  rendering  of  it  an  effort  with  which 
the  mind  had  anything  to  do  ;  nor  did  it  depend  on 
technique,  or  even  on  art.  It  was  felt.  It  was  passion 
and  nothing  else.  The  impression  left  on  you  was 
not  that  Desclee  was  trying  to  open  her  soul  to  you, 
but  that  she  was  trying  to  hide  it  ;  trying  to  suppress 
and  moderate  all  this  tumult  of  feeling.  She  never 
overstepped  the  line.  There  was  no  extravagance 
of  gesture  nor  distortion  of  the  face.  This  was 
simply  a  woman  in  whom  passion  blazed  and  burned  ; 
who  was  in  agony  ;  who  could  not  control  it  ;  v/ho 
would  not  have  told  you  of  it  if  she  could  have  helped 
it.  And  all  the  time  there  were  unplumbed  depths 
of  emotion  of  which  you  were  allowed  to  know  nothing. 

Yet  with  all  this,  Desclee  was  too  great  an  artist 
to  be  this  and  nothing  more.  In  Froufrou  and 
in  the  Princesse  Georges  and  in  the  Visite  de  Noces 
she  touched  every  note.  While  she  played  Frou- 
frou she  zvas  Froufrou,  "  that  pretty  little  Parisian 
soul,  born  in  laughter  and  vanishing  in  tears." 
Everybody  knows  the  scene  between  the  two  sisters 
at  the  end  of  the  third  act.  I  have  seen  it  played  by 
Desclee  and  by  Sarah  Bernhardt.  It  is  one  of  those 
whirlwind  scenes  in  which  Sarah  is  supposed  to  be 
at  her  best,  and  perhaps  is.  She  knew  she  had  memories 
of  Desclee  to  contend  against,  and  played  it  accordingly. 
But  Desclee  had  played  it  with  a  concentrated  rage 
of  jealous  intensity  to  which  no  rival  ever  attained. 

Still  more  marked  was  the  difference  between  them 
in  the  first  scene  of  the  fourth  act,  after  Froufrou 
has  fled  with  her  lover  to  Venice.     They  are  break- 


MLLE.    AIMEE   DESCLEE  303 

fasting  together  in  the  hotel  restaurant,  and  the  lover 
is  called  away,  as  they  both  know,  by  a  message  from 
the  husband  ;  for  the  comedy  has  become  a  tragedy 
and  nears  its  end.  Sarah  does  not  seem  to  mind  very 
much.  She  looks  about  her  as  if  bored  by  her  sohtude, 
and  her  first  remark  is  uttered  carelessly  in  a  tone 
of  intellectual  detachment  as  if  it  concerned  some  one 
else.  Hers  is,  in  fact,  an  intellectual  appreciation 
and  nothing  else.  There  is  no  appeal  to  sentiment, 
no  sign  of  deep  feeling.  She  is  cool,  speculative, 
almost  indifferent.  But  Desclee  sat  there  alone, 
in  torment,  her  head  resting  on  her  hand,  dejection 
in  every  line  of  her  figure,  and  a  world  of  pathos 
in  her  eyes.  The  words  of  which  Sarah  made  so  light 
came  from  Desclee's  lips  one  by  one  like  so  many 
sobs  : 

"  Une  heure  de  colere  et  voila  ou  j'en  suis." 
The  smooth  tones  —  passion- laden,  vibrating, 
poignant,  remorseful,  as  if  only  then  had  the  folly 
of  her  flight  and  the  wreck  of  her  life  become  visible 
to  her — stirred  a  passion  of  pity,  as  they  were  meant 
to,  in  all  hearts.  For  Desclee  was  an  actress  who 
could  act  only  what  she  felt  at  the  moment.  To 
have  felt  it  once  and  to  repeat  the  outward  signs 
of  it  ever  after  was  not  to  her  a  possible  method  of 
producing  an  effect. 

In  one  of  the  notes — they  are  really  essays  and 
generally  very  personal — which  Dumas  appended 
to  many  of  his  plays  in  the  Edition  des  Comediens^ 
he  tells,  or  partly  tells,  a  rehearsal  story  which  illumines 
both  him  and  Desclee.  The  rehearsal  was  of  Une 
Visite  de  Noces^  which  Dumas  had  written  for  her. 
It  was  characteristic  of  him  that  he  expected  an 
actress  to  rehearse  her  part  with  the  same  complete 
surrender  of  herself  as   if  before  an   audience.     He 


304       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

was  not  content  with  what  he  himself  calls  Desclee's 
marvellous  intuition  and  her  profound  knowledge 
of  her  art.  He  must  have  for  the  service  of  his  play- 
not  only  the  comedienne  but  the  woman  ;  and  into 
every  critical  moment  of  her  acting  the  woman 
must  put  her  soul.  With  the  selfish  coolness  in  which 
Dumas  had  no  superior,  he  remarks  that  he  knew 
very  well  what  it  cost  her ;  not  only  a  great  expendi- 
ture of  her  forces  mais  un  ehranlement  fhysiologique. 
But  there  was  a  moment  when  he  wanted,  and  would 
have,  a  certain  cry  which  meant  to  her  complete 
exhaustion  for  the  moment.  She  shrank  from  it. 
"  You  shall  have  it  when  I  act  ;  don't  ask  for  it  now." 
He  insisted,  and  finally  wrung  it  from  her,  and  with 
the  last  ounce  of  strength  she  had  left  she  said  to 
him  : 

"  Tenez,  le  voila  votre  cri,  et  vous  savez  bien  que 
cela  me  dechire  les  entrailles  !  " 

Dumas  softens  the  sentence  a  little  but  this  is 
the  authentic  text.  He  admits  that  she  added  : 
"  You  will  kill  me,"  and  that  he  replied  : 

"  What  does  that  matter  if  the  play  succeeds  ?  " 

But  though  these  inexorable  demands  may  have 
hurried  on  her  death,  I  don't  suppose  Dumas  was 
primarily  responsible  for  the  catastrophe.  Nor  is  he, 
I  will  admit,  without  some  sort  of  pretext  for  publish- 
ing the  letters.  He  tells  us  that  two  or  three  days 
before  her  death  Desclee  sent  him  back  all  his  letters 
to  her,  and  also  the  letters  by  her  written  to  "  finconnu 
de  Nafles^''  saying  : 

"  Take  this  correspondence  which  was  restored  to 
me  when  I  asked  for  it.  If  I  do  not  die  you  will 
return  it  to  me  ;  if  I  die,  read  it  and  do  with  it  what 
you  think  it  right  to  do." 

None  the  less  is  the  step  a  long  one  between  Desclee's 


MLLE.   AIMEE   DESCLEE  305 

trustful  appeal  to  Dumas,  and  the  use  he  makes  of  the 
discretion  left  to  him.  He  may  well  enough  have  said 
that  the  letters  were  too  precious  to  be  burnt.  You 
will  search  far  before  you  find  anything  like  them. 
Desclee  had  the  gift  of  expression  by  words  as  well 
as  by  acting.  If  she  had  not  much  literature  she  had 
that  kind  of  genius  to  which  literature  is  only  the 
handmaid.  She  never  seems  to  seek  for  a  phrase,  but 
the  phrase  comes.  She  is  bent  on  nothing  but  the 
revelation  to  her  lover  of  her  feelings,  her  thoughts, 
herself.  She  writes  with  absolute  freedom,  both  to 
Fanfan  and  to  Dumas.  She  writes,  at  times,  on  sub- 
jects not  usually  discussed  even  between  lovers. 
But  with  her  freedom  goes  a  delicacy  of  nature  which 
would  serve  as  a  veil  for  the  coarseness,  if  coarseness 
there  were.  This  delicacy  she  never  loses,  even  amid 
excesses  which  are  deplorable  ;  the  overflow,  as  she 
calls  it,  of  her  primitive  nature.  At  times,  her  art 
seems  to  her  a  mere  hypocrisy ;  un  metier  de  saltimbanqiie. 

"  With  a  conviction  which  is  artificial,  declaiming 
certain  things  of  which  you  believe  not  a  word — 
lying,  in  a  word  ;  deceiving  the  eyes  and  ears  of  a 
more  or  less  considerable  quantity  of  people  in  order 
to  amuse  them  for  a  few  hours." 

That  is  what  she  says  of  acting,  in  her  desperate 
m«od.  The  letter  is  to  Dumas,  and  Dumas  publishes 
many  letters  from  her  to  him  dealing  more  or  less 
with  questions  of  art,  yet  in  which  the  artist  too  often 
leaves  the  stage  and  the  woman  appears.  The  great 
dramatist,  for  great  he  is,  printed  in  one  form  or 
another  many  letters  which  a  right  feeling  would 
have  wholly  suppressed  ;  and  they  appear  in  many 
editions.  I  do  not  know  that  we  need  think  the  worse 
of  Desclee  ;  it  is  Dumas  whose  name  is  blackened  by 
these  treacheries. 


3o6       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

M.  Paul  Duplan's  volume,  Lettres  de  Aimee  Desclee 
a  Fanfan,  appeared  in  1895.  But  Desclee  died  in 
1873,  and  was  already  half-forgotten.  The  book 
had  no  success.  It  never  so  much  as  went  to  a  second 
edition.  During  these  fifteen  last  years  I  have  sent 
many  copies  of  it  at  intervals  to  many  friends,  all 
of  the  first  edition,  and  it  is  still  in  print.  All  I 
can  say  is  that  the  impression  made  by  her  letters 
is  very  much  the  impression  made  by  her  acting. 
In  her  own  life,  as  in  the  women  she  impersonated 
on  the  stage,  she  suffered  much,  loved  much,  sinned 
much.  Her  own  confessions  are  the  evidence  against 
her,  but  when  you  have  read  them  all  and  mourned 
over  them,  she  remains  a  woman  whose  real  nature 
was  true. 

And  true  is  the  word  I  have  heard  Mme.  Sarah 
Bernhardt  use  to  describe  Desclee's  acting,  and  in 
Sarah's  mouth  perhaps  no  other  word  means  so  much, 
or  conveys  a  eulogy  so  high.  If  you  have  everything 
else  in  acting,  or  in  any  art,  and  though  you  speak 
with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels  and  have 
not  truth,  you  are  become  as  sounding  brass  or  a 
tinkling  cymbal.  Whereas,  if  you  have  truth  in  the 
true  sense,  it  seems  to  matter  little  what  else  you  have, 
or  have  not. 

When  Mile.  Aimee  Desclee  returned  from  Brussels 
to  Paris,  or  rather  when  she  appeared  in  Froufrou, 
she  was  twenty-nine  years  of  age.  She  died  at  thirty- 
three  of  a  cruel  malady  which  made  her  last  few 
months  one  long  agony.  Into  these  four  years,  from 
1869  to  1873,  she  crowded  the  triumphs  of  a  lifetime. 
To  win  them  she  wore  herself  out,  and  she  won  them 
almost  against  her  own  wish.  Her  longing  was  for 
repose,  a  convent,  or  no  matter  what.  Yet  into 
the  mimic  life  of  the  stage  she  put  her  whole  soul ; 


MLLE.   AIMEE   DESCLEE  307 

her  strength,  her  passion,  her  hfe.  I  use  these  words 
often  but  there  are  no  others.  She  knew  well  it 
was  a  slow  suicide.  In  the  midst  of  her  dazzling 
success  as  the  Princesse  Georges  her  prayer  for  a 
retreat  and  rest  is  heard  again  : 

"  But,  mon  Dieu,  why  am  I  not  happy  or  even 
content  ?  Shall  I  never  be  that  ?  I  make  no  com- 
plaint. How  many  women  in  my  place  would  thank 
Heaven !  The  house  full,  each  night  flowers  and 
triumphs  enough  to  satiate  tous  les  minotaures  des 
theatres.  Yet  for  all  that  I  care  nothing.  It  all 
comes  to  this,  that  I  shall  end  beneath  a  nun's  cap. 
I  don't  wish  to  kill  myself  but  I  would  gladly  die. 
At  the  convent  I  shall  live  in  an  ecstasy.  I  shall 
adore  my  Christ,  and  He  perhaps  will  give  me  back 
what  I  give  to  Him.  There  only  shall  I  at  last  be 
content  with  my  lot  ;  that  perhaps  is  my  true  vocation. 
Still,  I  struggle  on.  Nobody  cares  that  I  should  stay 
where  I  am.  My  disappearance  will  at  least  make 
a  few  people,  a  few  women,  happy.  A  place  vacant. 
Whose  turn  is  it  ?  " 

That  is  the  voice  of  a  woman  who  had  all  Paris 
at  her  feet,  the  greatest  dramatist  of  his  time  to  write 
plays  for  her,  the  most  critical  public  in  the  world 
crowning  her  with  laurels  ;  her  fame  world-wide. 
Whatever  she  might  say  at  times,  she  loved  her  art. 
But  the  disease  which  was  to  kill  her  had  already 
laid  hands  upon  her  ;  and  in  the  bitterness  of  her 
reproaches  you  hear  the  cry  of  unendurable  pain. 
From  that  time  on  her  life  was  a  martyrdom  and 
death  came  as  a  deliverance. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

SIR   HENRY   IRVING 
I 

THE    SOCIAL    SIDE CRITICISM    AND    FINANCE 

T  SAW  much  of  Irving,  first  and  last,  and  in  many 
ways.  He  was  to  be  met  at  many  houses  and  his 
social  gifts  were  remarkable.  He  had  in  private  the 
fascination  he  had  on  the  stage.  His  manner  had  a 
charm  alike  for  men  and  women  ;  and  many  women 
were  devoted  to  him.  The  word  which  best  describes 
his  manner  is  not  kindly  or  even  attaching,  the  word 
Matthew  Arnold  and  Froude  loved  to  use,  but 
affectionate.  And  his  manner  was  affectionate  be- 
cause his  nature  was  affectionate.  He  made  of  his 
hospitality  something  between  a  passion  and  a  fine  art. 
Who  has  not  heard  of  the  suppers  at  the  Beefsteak 
Rooms  in  the  Lyceum  ;  which  are  not  to  be  confounded 
with  the  Beefsteak  Club,  a  wholly  different  matter. 
On  Sundays  the  suppers  became  dinners.  I  have  many 
memories  of  both.  They  were  often  what  is  called 
brilliant,  and  men  and  women  of  great  position  were 
there.  But  whoever  was  there  it  was  Irving  who  was 
the  central  figure.  In  a  patrician  company  the  host 
was  the  most  patrician  of  all.  In  all  companies  he  had 
distinction,  and  as  a  host  he  had  most  distinction  of  all. 
If  you  went  to  his  rooms  in  Grafton  Street  it  was 
the  same.  He  met  you  with  a  welcome  which  was 
both  friendly  and  beautiful.     If  he  dined  with  you 

308 


SIR    HENRY    IRVING  309 

your  dinner  was  sure  to  go  off  well.  He  interpreted 
his  obligations  as  a  guest  largely,  and  felt  it  his  duty  to 
regard  the  dullest  woman  as  delightful.  If  he  was 
bored  nobody  ever  found  it  out.  If  you  knew  his 
ways,  or  his  wishes,  you  were  always  prepared  to  spend 
the  greater  part  of  the  night  with  him,  or  that  he 
should  spend  it  with  you.  He  would  always  offer  to 
take  leave  when  others  went  but  what  he  really  liked 
was  to  stay  on,  with  one  or  two  others,  till  three  or  four 
in  the  morning  or  later.  Then  he  talked  with  an 
openness  and  a  magic  of  speech  that  were  all  his  own. 
He  had  a  gift  of  epigram.  Sentences  came  carelessly 
from  his  lips,  in  polished  phrasing,  quite  perfect  in 
form  and,  when  need  was,  penetrating  and  sometimes 
deadly.  But  he  was  as  a  rule  amiable,  charitable  to 
all,  indifferent  to  enmities.  He  liked  to  talk  of  his  art. 
If  you  asked  him  he  would  talk  of  himself  and  of  his 
past ;  that  long  period  of  failure  and  privation  which 
tempered  the  steel  there  was  in  him. 

The  supper  which  Irving  gave  to  celebrate  the 
hundredth  night  of  ^he  Merchant  of  Venice  was  perhaps 
the  most  memorable  of  all.  It  was  a  great  and  dis- 
tinguished company  which  assembled  on  the  stage  of 
the  Lyceum.  Lord  Houghton  was  to  make,  in  the 
name  of  the  guests,  and  of  the  public,  the  speech  of 
congratulation  to  Irving  on  his  Shylock,  which  by 
common  consent  ranked  among  his  best  creations,  and 
on  the  run  of  the  beautifully  staged  piece.  Lord 
Houghton  at  that  time  was  still  an  important  figure 
in  the  world  of  London,  spite  of  his  occasional  eccen- 
tricities and  uncertainties  and  spite  of  the  general 
decay  of  his  poetic  reputation.  He  was,  at  any  rate, 
a  man  of  letters  and  he  had  a  conspicuous  place  in 
society.  He  still  gave  breakfasts  and  perhaps  was  seen 
to  more  advantage  at  those  early  hours  than  later  in 


3IO       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

the  day.  The  Stanley  incident,  which  had  points  of 
Hkeness  to  the  one  I  am  going  to  relate,  had  not  then 
occurred.  The  outburst  in  the  presence  of  the  Prince 
of  Wales  had  not  occurred.  He  seemed  a  very  suitable 
person  to  accomplish  handsomely  if  not  brilliantly  the 
duty  assigned  to  him  at  this  supper. 

But  when  Lord  Houghton  rose  to  make  his  speech, 
the  unexpected  happened.  Instead  of  the  eulogy  for 
which  we  all  looked  there  came  a  bitter  criticism,  and 
something  more  than  criticism.  The  speech  was  a 
lampoon.  He  ridiculed  Irving  and  his  Shylock.  He 
ridiculed  the  production  of  the  play.  Irving's  concep- 
tion of  Shylock,  his  acting,  his  stage  management,  all 
came  in  for  a  share  of  Lord  Houghton's  invective. 
He  was  a  guest  and  he  disparaged  his  host.  He  was  the 
mouthpiece  of  this  company  of  Irving's  friends  and 
admirers,  and  he  spoke  as  an  enemy  to  whom  Irving's 
genius  was  hateful.  He  came  to  bless  and  he  remained 
to  curse. 

Now  Irving,  of  course,  had  prepared  a  fitting  reply 
to  the  speech  of  compliment  he  supposed  Lord  Hough- 
ton would  make.  He  had  to  suppress  the  whole  of  it 
and  reply  to  a  harangue  of  a  wholly  different  kind. 
Irving  was  known  as  a  good  speaker  but  those  who  dis- 
liked him  used  to  say  he  could  only  deliver  discourses 
written  out  beforehand  and  memorized.  His  friends 
knew  better,  but  nobody  had  seen  him  put  to  such  a 
test  as  this  and  curiosity  was  keen  when  he  rose.  But 
you  had  only  to  look  at  him  to  see  that  he  was  master 
of  the  situation.  He  was  smiling.  His  manner  was  the 
perfection  of  courtesy.  His  tones  were  smooth.  I 
will  quote,  of  course  from  memory,  a  sentence  or  two  : 

"  I  cannot  thank  you  enough.  Lord  Houghton,  for 
the  speech  you  have  delivered.  I  am  grateful  to  you 
for  coming  here  to  testify  by  your  presence,  if  not  by 


SIR    HENRY    IRVING  311 

your  words,  to  your  appreciation  of  the  effort  I  and 
my  associates  have  made  to  do  what  justice  we  can 
to  The  Merchant  of  Venice.  I  am  grateful  to  you  for 
the  advice  you  have  given  me  about  the  acting  of 
Shylock.  I  should  have  been  more  grateful  still  had 
you  given  it  earlier,  so  that  I  might  have  profited  by 
it,  so  that  my  audiences  might  have  profited  by  it,  so 
that  Shylock  might  have  been  presented  to  the  public 
not  according  to  my  unaided  conception  of  the  part, 
but  with  the  help  of  your  views  of  his  true  nature  and 
your  ripe  experience  of  the  stage  to  eke  out  my  im- 
perfect knowledge.  If  you  would  have  come  to  the 
rehearsals,  think  what  we  should  have  learned  !  Nay, 
dare  I  suggest  that  your  appearance  on  the  stage  would 
have  supplied  for  this  theatre  a  sensation  it  never  had 
before  ?  " 

By  this  time  we  were  all  cheering,  sentence  by 
sentence.  Irving  went  on  to  ask  Lord  Houghton  for 
specific  instructions.  Would  he  prefer  that  Irving 
should  come  on  with  three  hats  ?  Would  it  be  right 
he  should  carry  a  bag  of  ducats  ?  Ought  the  ducats  to 
be  heard  jingling,  "  to  help  the  hurt  that  honour 
feels  ?  "  Did  he  think  it  would  improve  matters  if  he 
exchanged  parts  with  Portia  ?  And  so  on,  all  with 
a  light  touch,  all  in  the  spirit  of  banter,  all  good- 
humoured,  but  altogether  a  stinging  rebuke  to  Lord 
Houghton.  The  supper  resolved  itself  into  two  parties. 
One  consisted  of  Lord  Houghton.  The  other  included 
Irving  and  every  one  else  present.  Lord  Houghton 
moved  restlessly  in  his  chair.  He  was  red  with  anger, 
but  he  had  met  his  master  and  knew  it  and  sat  silent. 
There  are  few  moments  in  Irving's  career  which  his 
friends  recall  with  greater  delight  ;  few  in  which  the 
fine  qualities  of  the  man  showed  themselves  with  more 
decision. 


312       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

To  the  question  of  criticism  and  its  effect  upon  the 
actor  there  is,  of  course,  a  financial  side  when  the 
actor  is  the  owner  or  lessee  of  his  theatre.  Criticism 
may  or  may  not  be  felt  in  his  dressing-room  but  it  is 
sure  to  be  felt  in  the  box-office.  A  theatre  is  a  com- 
mercial enterprise.  If  it  is  to  live  it  must  pay  and 
in  order  to  pay  the  actors  and  actresses,  or  some  of 
them,  must  attract  the  public.  Depreciate  the  actor 
and  you  reduce  the  receipts,  and  if  you  reduce  them 
below  the  living  wage  you  close  the  theatre  and  send 
the  performers  out  into  an  unappreciative,  or  too 
appreciative  world.  All  this  is  obvious,  yet  it  has  to 
be  restated  as  often  as  you  estimate  the  influence  of 
criticism  on  the  actor. 

In  Irving's  case  many  other  things  than  criticism 
conspired  to  bring  about  failure  at  the  end  ;  for  failure 
it  was.  The  management  of  the  Lyceum  was  lavish. 
It  was  so  lavish  that  purely  fanciful  stories  of  the  sums 
invested  in  the  production  of  particular  plays  were 
current.  They  ran  as  high  as  ^25,000.  Irvingsaid  to 
me  : 

"  You  have  seen  that  The  Merchant  of  Venice  cost 
me  ^20,000  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;   that  is  what  some  of  the  papers  say." 

"  Well,  I  will  not  tell  you  what  The  Merchant  oj 
Venice  cost  for  I  do  not  yet  know.  These  gentlemen 
of  your  profession  know  a  good  deal  more  than  I  do. 
But  I  will  tell  you  that  the  highest  sum  the  production 
of  any  play  has  ever  cost  me  is  less  than  ^^7000.  If  I 
had  spent  what  the  papers  say,  I  should  have  been  in 
the  Bankruptcy  Court  long  before  this." 

The  expense  was,  in  any  case,  far  too  great  ;  and  it 
was  supplemented  by  other  expenses  arising  not  out 
of  business  necessities,  real  or  supposed,  but  out  of 
Irving's  uncalculating  kindness  of  nature.     He  had  a 


SIR    HENRY    IRVING  313 

pension  list  quite  as  much  out  of  proportion  to  the 
deserts  of  his  pensioners  as  that  of  the  United  States 
is  to  the  services  actually  rendered  in  war  by  many  of 
its  countless  beneficiaries.  No  man  ever  found  more 
difficulty  in  saying  no  to  a  suitor.  As  manager  of  the 
Lyceum  Theatre  he  had  to  dismiss  many  an  actor  and 
actress  whom  he  found  unsuited  to  the  work  he  wanted 
done.  Other  managers  do  the  same  thing  constantly. 
They  must  do  it.  But  when  it  was  discovered  that 
Irving  had  given  some  of  these  ladies  and  gentlemen 
a  continuing  allowance,  other  ladies  and  gentlemen 
applied  for  allowances.  So  quick  and  wide  were  his 
sympathies  that  he  presently  found  himself  paying 
salaries,  or  half  salaries,  to  a  great  number  of  persons 
from  whom  he  got  nothing  in  return.  That  was  not 
business.     It  meant  bankruptcy. 

When  I  last  saw  him  in  New  York,  as  he  was  sailing 
for  England,  he  told  me  he  had  had  a  wonderful 
season.  He  had  been  in  what  he  still  called  "  The 
States  "  from  autumn  to  spring,  playing  throughout 
to  good  business.    He  said  : 

"  America  is  the  place  to  make  money  ;  first,  last, 
and  all  the  time.  Yours  is  a  generous  public  ;  generous 
in  applause,  generous  in  support.  I  am  taking  ^^30,000 
home  with  me." 

What  became  of  it,  and  why  at  the  end  was  he 
forced  by  need  of  money  to  go  on  acting  when  he 
ought  to  have  rested  ?  That,  and  that  only,  caused  his 
death. 

During  this  last  hour  in  New  York  he  looked  tired 
but  in  great  spirits.  There  was  always  in  his  face 
something  of  the  ascetic  ;  of  the  great  ecclesiastic. 
It  was  stamped  with  lines  of  thought  and  of  other 
hard  work.  He  had  always  worked.  If  his  had  been 
a  life  of  splendour,  that  was  because  it  had  also  been 


314       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

a  life  of  toil.  He  and  Sarah  Bernhardt  were  alike  in 
that  and  in  their  genius  for  splendid  squandering. 
He  did  the  work  of  three  men  ;  of  the  actor,  of  the 
producer,  and  of  the  manager.  He  shouldered  re- 
sponsibilities lightly,  but  never  shirked  them.  His 
face  was  the  record  of  a  great  career  and  the  outward 
expression  of  a  great  soul. 


II 

THE  ARTIST,  THE  MAN,  AND  SOME  OF  THE  PARTS 
BOTH  PLAYED 

Whoever  knew  Irving  at  all  well  must  be  in  some 
doubt  whether  his  memories  of  Irving  the  artist  or 
of  Irving  the  man  have  left  the  deeper  impression. 
In  truth  they  are  inextricably  intertwined.  You  can- 
not separate  them,  nor  could  his  audiences  in  the 
theatre,  and  it  is  this  intimate  union  between  the 
qualities  of  the  actor  and  his  personal  qualities  which 
accounts  for  no  small  part  of  Irving's  immense  and 
permanent  fame.  When  you  try  to  distinguish  be- 
tween the  two  you  find  yourself  sometimes  on  one 
side  of  the  border  line  and  sometimes  on  the  other  ; 
and  you  do  not  always  know  when  you  have  crossed 
it.  And  perhaps  it  does  not  much  matter.  In  what 
I  have  to  say  of  Irving  I  shall  let  the  impressions  take 
care  of  themselves.  There  was  a  real  Irving  who  was 
just  as  real  when  he  was  playing  a  part  as  when  you 
met  him  in  private  life. 

All  this  was  evident  in  his  acting  of  such  a  part  as 
Mephistopheles  in  Faust.  There  are  in  the  imper- 
sonation of  every  great  role  certain  moments,  seldom 
very  many,  which  reveal  to  you  as  by  flashes  of  lightning 


SIR   HENRY    IRVING  315 

the  genius  of  the  actor,  or  his  want  of  it,  or  his  fitness 
or  unfitness  for  that  particular  part.  Such  a  moment, 
one  of  his  happiest,  was  that  when  Irving,  all  in 
the  conventional  red  and  red  cock's  feather  of  the 
conventional  Mephistopheles,  floated — there  is  no 
other  word  for  it — down  the  stage  to  the  footlights 
and  breathed  out  into  space  in  hardly  more  than  a 
whisper,  but  a  whisper  audible  in  the  remotest  spot 
of  the  great  auditorium,  the  one  sentence  : 

"  I  am  a  spirit." 

And  he  was  a  spirit.  You  felt  it.  He  belonged  not 
to  this  world  but  to  another  world.  He  was  almost  a 
disembodied  spirit.  His  possession  of  a  body  was 
accidental.  The  essential  thing  was  the  spirit.  He 
was  of  all  time,  past  and  future  ;  immemorial,  im- 
mortal, eternal.  Whether  a  spirit  of  evil  or  a  spirit 
of  good  mattered  not.  He  was  a  spirit.  That  was 
what  he  meant  us  to  understand.  That  is  what  we 
did  understand.  The  laws  of  nature  and  of  evidence 
were  for  the  time  being  suspended.  You  took  his 
word  for  it.  If  he  had  not  said  so  we  should  still 
have  said  to  ourselves,  "  He  is  a  spirit."  It  was  a 
spiritual  presence,  a  dweller  of  another  world,  a  being 
of  a  nature  not  human  but  divine,  a  divinity  of  the 
nether  world ;  a  spirit  of  light  though  the  light 
shone  from  below. 

Is  anything  but  genius,  and  a  very  high  order  of 
genius,  capable  of  producing  such  an  effect  as  that  ? 
The  two  Irvings  met  in  Mephistopheles.  If  either 
of  the  two  had  been  absent  it  would  not  have  been 
Mephistopheles,  or  not  this  Mephistopheles.  The 
slightness  of  his  physique  added  to  the  effect.  You 
were  not  disturbed  by  anything  corporeal  or  gross. 
There  was  just  body  enough  to  hold  the  spirit;  no 
more.     And  there  were  the  eyes,  luminous,  haunting, 


3i6       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

melancholy,  with  the  far-away  look  in  them  which 
befitted  one  who  had  just  traversed  infinite  space  to 
reach  the  earth.  It  was  a  vision.  It  is  five-and-twenty 
years  or  more  since  I  beheld  it,  and  the  like  of  it  I 
have  never  seen  since,  and  shall  never  see. 

Yet  have  I  seen  other  actors  masquerading  as 
Mephistopheles,  and  one  quite  recently,  an  actor  of 
renown,  of  wide  popularity.  The  contrast  to  Irving 
is  physical  as  well  as  spiritual,  for  it  is  a  stout  Mephis- 
topheles which  he  presents  to  the  public.  He  takes, 
and  expects  us  to  accept,  a  humorous  view  of  Goethe's 
creation,  since  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  any  other 
world  than  this,  nor  with  this  except  on  the  stage. 
Goethe's  Mephistopheles  has  a  psychological  signifi- 
cance ;  or  even,  if  you  like,  psychical.  So  had  Irving's. 
But  this  latest  fiend  of  the  twentieth  century  is  of  the 
earth  earthy.  Irving  regarded  his  victims  with  a  smile 
of  polished  ferocity  that  filled  you  with  terror.  This 
more  recent  Mephistopheles  leered  at  them  and  at 
you.  He  played  it,  in  a  word,  as  he  would  play  the 
lead  in  a  modern  farce,  with  great  abilities,  greatly 
misused.  Nothing  could  be  more  remote  from  Faust, 
in  which  even  the  scenes  with  Martha  are  pure  comedy; 
as  other  scenes  are  pure  tragedy.  Irving,  though  the 
version  in  which  he  acted  was  but  a  pale  reflex  of  the 
original,  had  found  and  kept  the  true  note.  He  was 
not  a  man  to  miss  the  distinction  characteristic  of  the 
real  play.  His  Mephistopheles  was  a  great  gentleman, 
and  if  Mephistopheles  be  not  a  great  gentleman  he  is 
not  the  Mephistopheles  of  Goethe. 

In  much  of  the  drama  and  dramatic  criticism  of  the 
day  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  magic  of  Irving's  influence 
survives.  It  survives,  I  think,  because  of  his  constant 
appeal  to  the  imagination,  and  because  of  the  want 
of  any  such  appeal  on  the  stage  as  it  is.     When  Sir 


SIR   HENRY   IRVING  317 

Herbert  Tree  produces  Henry  the  Eighth  and  announces 
himself  as  Cardinal  Wolsey,  he  has  to  confront  the 
spectre  of  Irving's  Cardinal.  It  was  the  same  when 
Faust  was  given ;  the  Mephistopheles  of  Irving 
haunted  the  stage  of  His  Majesty's  Theatre,  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face  more  sardonic  than  ever. 

Irving's  Wolsey  bore  no  likeness  in  face  to  Henry's 
great  Minister,  but  in  soul  and  spirit  was  the  real 
thing.  As  you  looked  upon  the  actor  you  saw  a  great 
ecclesiastic.  He  had  the  finesse  which  is  the  stamp 
set  by  the  Roman  CathoHc  Church,  then  and  now, 
upon  all  its  chief  dignitaries.  You  saw  him  as  he 
moved  about  the  stage,  subtle,  evasive,  implacable, 
unscrupulous  ;  Rome  in  him  and  about  him  ;  the 
Seven  Hills  visible  and  minatory.  He  was  an  ascetic. 
There  seems  to  be  a  form  of  power  over  the  minds  of 
men  not  to  be  had  otherwise  than  by  the  practice  of 
privations.  That  also  Irving  had.  It  was  not  an  effect 
of  make-up,  but  of  nature.  He  was  the  Cassius  of  the 
Lyceum,  lean  and  hungry. 

There  was  in  Irving  a  resemblance  to  Cardinal 
Manning — you  cannot  say  in  the  flesh,  for  Manning 
had  none — but  in  skin  and  bone,  and,  at  moments,  in 
the  cruelty  of  his  look.  He  was  a  Torquemada  in  all 
but  the  power  to  translate  his  cruelty  into  the  con- 
crete form  of  the  rack  and  the  stake.  I  disliked  Man- 
ning so  much  that  I  shrink  from  my  own  comparison 
and  from  a  confusion  of  memory  in  any  particular 
between  Manning,  whose  nature  was  selfish,  and 
Irving,  whose  nature  was  generous.  But  the  likeness 
was  there.  Irving  would  not  have  resented  it.  His 
business  was  to  produce  upon  the  stage  the  illusion  of 
actual  life,  and  he  would  have  held  it  a  comphment  to 
be  told  that  as  Cardinal  Wolscy  he  reminded  you  of 
a  living  Cardinal,  whether  Manning  or  another.   What 


3i8       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

he  aimed  at  was  verisimilitude.  He  must  have  met 
Manning,  and  while  he  did  not  consciously  imitate 
him — in  no  case  did  he  ever  do  that,  or  ever  repro- 
duce upon  the  stage  the  lineaments  or  bearing  or  dress 
of  real  life — he  may  well  enough  have  been  aware  how 
Cardinal  Manning  looked,  and  the  impression  of  that 
austere  presence  may  have  remained  with  him.  Some- 
thing may  have  passed  from  the  soul  of  the  one  to  the 
soul  of  the  other,  for  Manning,  with  all  his  faults  and 
some  of  them  unforgivable,  was  a  figure  in  this  great 
Protestant  community;  not  less  so  because  he  was  a 
relentless  servant  of  Rome.  His  biographer  Purcell 
has  laid  him  bare. 

Irving  played  three  great  prelates ;  Richelieu  in 
Bulwer  Lytton's  play  of  that  name ;  Wolsey  in 
Henry  the  Eighth  ;  and  Becket  in  Tennyson's  metrical 
experiment  in  play  writing.  No  one  of  these  three 
impersonations  was  like  either  of  the  other  two.  He 
had  studied  each  of  the  three  independently.  How- 
ever, it  is  only  Wolsey  who  concerns  us  to-day,  and 
he  concerns  us  because  never  before  has  there  been 
such  an  opportunity  to  measure  Irving's  greatness  as 
by  a  visit  to-day  to  His  Majesty's  Theatre.  Sir  Herbert 
Tree  may  rightly  enough  claim  to  be  judged  on  his 
own  merits  and  not  by  comparison  with  the  first  of 
English  actors  since  Garrick  ;  and,  for  aught  we  know, 
Garrick's  equal.  In  what  Mr.  Roosevelt,  steeped  in 
literary  calm,  would  call  strenuousness,  Irving  was 
Garrick's  superior,  since  Garrick  acted,  from  year's 
end  to  year's  end,  less  than  twice  a  week  and  Irving 
six  or  seven  times.  Irving  must  therefore  have  had 
a  much  larger  reserve  of  power,  and  used  it  much  more 
freely  than  Garrick. 

But  I  am  not  judging  Sir  Herbert  Tree.  That  is 
no  part  of  my  duty.     I  use  him,  in  no  unkindly  spirit. 


SIR   HENRY    IRVING  319 

to  bring  out  living's  resplendent  merits.  For  once, 
instead  of  the  limelight  of  which  he  is  so  fond,  Sir 
Herbert  must  be  content  to  be  a  background.  I  am 
sure  he  will  not  object.  He  wdll  rejoice  to  offer  a 
sacrifice  on  this  altar.  He  owes  much  to  Irving.  What 
living  actor  is  there  who  does  not  ?  Moreover,  it  is 
quite  possible  to  praise  Sir  Herbert's  Wolsey.  It  has 
been  praised,  though  with  some  reserve,  by  the  public 
press.  It  has  been  acclaimed  in  the  theatre.  Tried 
by  the  box-office  test,  it  is  a  highly  successful  per- 
formance. The  play  as  produced  by  Sir  Herbert  is  a 
pageant.  Scenery  and  costumes  are  splendid.  He  is 
a  manager  of  great  energies  and  great  capacities,  and 
an  accomplished  actor  of  many  parts  who  tries  to  look 
at  his  part,  whatever  it  may  be,  with  the  eyes  of  the 
audience.  He  sits  in  front  and  brings  his  mind's  eye 
to  bear  on  his  own  conception  and  performance  of 
Wolsey.  He  gives  his  audience  little  or  no  credit  for 
subtlety  of  perception.  He  assumes  that  what  they 
want  is  the  obvious,  the  common,  the  everyday  view. 
An  imaginative  treatment  is  to  them,  and  therefore  to 
him,  superfluous. 

Far  otherwise  was  Irving's  way.  He  did — and  in 
this  Sir  Herbert  Tree  follows  and  imitates  him — 
everything  to  attract  an  audience  by  splendour  of 
mounting  and  dressing  and  by  the  strength  of  his 
cast.  There  he  stopped.  When  he  came  to  consider 
the  part  he  was  going  to  act,  he  retired  into  his  closet 
and  took  counsel  with  his  own  soul.  Into  that  retreat 
were  admitted  no  delegates  of  the  outside  world.  He 
forgot  the  existence  of  the  box-office.  He  remembered 
only  his  art  and  himself.  All  his  art  and  all  his  wonder- 
ful personality  he  put  at  the  service  of  the  character 
he  was  about  to  impersonate.  New  part  or  old,  it 
mattered  not.    He  composed  it  for  himself  as  if  it  had 


320      ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

never  been  played  before.  He  knew  all  the  traditions 
and  of  them  all  was  independent.  They  were  his 
servants  ;  not  he  theirs.  He  took  what  he  wanted  ; 
the  rest  were  the  property  of  the  next  comer.  He 
thought  out  all  his  problems  and  all  the  difficulties  of 
his  part  in  his  own  way  and  to  his  own  end.  He  read 
everything  and  knew  what  to  remember  and  what  to 
forget.  There  was  no  detail  which  escaped  him,  and 
none  which  embarrassed  him.  By  reading  and  deeply 
reflecting  upon  the  man  he  was  to  depict,  his  mind 
became  saturated  with  this  new  conception.  Upon 
it,  and  upon  each  new  one  in  succession,  he  lavished,  I 
repeat,  all  his  gifts,  all  his  technique,  all  his  over- 
mastering individuality  ;  and  of  them  all  he  made  an 
imaginative  use.  His  Richelieu  was  one  thing,  his 
Becket  another,  and  his  Wolsey  a  third. 

His  Wolsey  was  one  of  those  pictures,  like  Millais's 
portrait  of  Cardinal  Newman,  which  never  fade  from 
the  mind.  Irving  had,  in  a  measure,  the  benignity 
of  Newman,  in  whose  face  benignity  contended  with 
strength.  But  since  benignity  was  only  an  occasional 
and  perhaps  hypocritical  trait  in  Wolsey,  Irving  never 
allowed  it  to  be  paramount.  It  was  transitory,  yet 
while  it  lasted  you  thought  it  there  for  ever.  His  face 
was  wasted  by  fasting  ;  the  scourge  had  been  laid  on 
his  shoulders  ;  the  daily  torture  of  the  hair  shirt  was 
his.  In  this  leanness  of  visage  lay  one  of  Irving's 
resemblances  to  Cardinal  Manning  ;  the  skin  clung 
to  the  bones.  But  if  Irving  had  studied  Manning  he 
made  no  mistake  ;  he  was  under  no  delusion.  He  did 
not  impute  to  Wolsey  the  cunning  of  his  successor  ; 
he  was  clad  in  the  lion's  skin,  not  the  fox's.  The 
Wolsey  who  came  down  to  the  Lyceum  footlights  was 
he  who  wrote  "  Ego  et  rex  meus.''^  Punch,  in  describing 
the  inventory  of  Sir  Herbert's  stage  properties,  men- 


SIR    HENRY    IRVING  321 

tions  a  portrait  of  Tree  as  Wolsey,  on  the  frame  of 
which  the  last  three  words  of  the  sentence  have  been 
rubbed  out. 

Among  all  the  visions  of  all  the  Irvings  which  live 
in  one's  memory  this  of  Wolsey  is  among  the  most 
vivid.  He  had  taken  the  trouble  to  send  to  Rome  to 
get  the  exact  shade  of  rose-scarlet  of  which  the  silk 
robe  of  a  cardinal  ought  to  be  made.  I  believe  Sir 
Herbert  had  done  the  same,  but  he  had  not  taken  the 
precaution  to  iit  it  with  that  expression  of  disdainful 
power  which  Irving's  face  bore.  The  great  actor  of 
the  Lyceum  seemed  never  to  care,  though  of  course 
he  did  care,  whether  you  applauded  him  or  not.  He 
wanted  you  to  see  and  understand  what  was  in  his 
mind,  what  kind  of  character  he  was  seeking  to 
present  to  you,  and  to  believe  that  while  Irving  was 
on  the  stage  this  character,  Wolsey  or  another,  was 
what  you  saw  and  heard.  No  meaner  triumph  than 
this  contented  him.  He  sometimes  failed,  but  it  was 
so  high  an  ambition  that  when  he  succeeded  the 
failures  were  as  if  they  had  never  been.  And  he  suc- 
ceeded in  Wolsey. 

I  have  seen  Irving  when  he  had  to  face  a  hostile 
verdict  from  his  own  first-night  public  ;  for  practically 
the  house  was  on  a  first  night  his  own  ;  with  Mr.  Bram 
Stoker  as  the  amiable  but  inexorable  guardian  of  the 
gateway  to  this  theatrical  paradise,  since  paradise  it 
was  on  these  occasions.  Stoker  had  become  a  kind  of 
second  self  to  Irving,  thinking  his  thoughts,  knowing 
what  he  wanted  done,  and  carrying  out  his  wishes  with 
equal  energy  and  intelligence.  If  even  among  this  chosen 
company  of  the  faithful  there  was  discontent,  and  dis- 
senting cries  mingled  with  the  cheers,  Irving  met  them 
with  an  air  of  ingenuous,  incredulous  surprise,  as  if 
they  could  not  mean  it.    He  was  wounded  in  the  house 


322       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

of  his  friends.  He  did  not  resent  it.  He  seemed  to 
be  sorry,  not  for  himself  but  for  an  audience  which 
could  misunderstand  so  sadly.  Altogether,  the  grand 
manner ;  neither  defiant  nor  deprecatory  but  im- 
partial, as  if  not  he  but  a  third  person  were  concerned 
and  they  who  disapproved  were  simply  mistaken.  I 
used  to  think  these  scenes  among  the  finest  in  which 
Irving  ever  appeared.  After  a  time  he  stilled  the  ex- 
pressions of  dissent  ;  they  died  away  as  if  in  truth  the 
authors  of  them  had  become  aware  they  were  wrong, 
which  perhaps  they  did  feel,  and  as  if  Irving  were 
after  all  right ;   which  sometimes  he  was  not. 

But  the  grand  manner  has  departed  with  him  ; 
there  was  no  one  to  take  the  torch  from  his  dying 
hand.  When  you  come  to  a  question  of  personal  de- 
portment it  is  a  delicate  business  and  I  name  no  names. 
I  only  ask,  who  among  the  best  and  most  successful 
of  the  actors  now  to  be  seen  in  London  holds  his  head 
high  when  he  takes  his  call  ?  The  actor-managers  are 
on  their  own  ground.  The  theatre  is  theirs.  They 
could  close  it  to-morrow  and  turn  their  audiences  into 
the  street  if  they  liked.  Yet  there  are  among  them 
those  who  face  a  cheering  or  a  howling  house  with  the 
air  of  a  tradesman  in  dread  of  offending  his  customers. 

But  Irving  ?  Irving,  without  the  least  touch  of 
arrogance,  looked  about  him  as  a  King  upon  his  sub- 
jects. The  natural  majesty  of  the  man  was  better  seen 
in  these  crises  than  at  any  other  time.  He  was  per- 
fectly self-possessed,  perfectly  fearless ;  while  inside 
of  him  burnt  a  contemptuous  anger  he  was  far  too 
much  the  aristocrat  to  show.  The  public  liked  him 
the  better  for  it.    He  said  to  me  once : 

"  I  have  had  to  make  a  study  of  audiences.  I  have 
studied  actors  also  in  their  relation  to  audiences,  and 
I  feel  sure  that,  whether  as  actor  or  manager,  he  who 


SIR    HENRY    IRVING  323 

defers  too  much  to  the  public  loses  his  hold  on  the 
public.  Those  people  in  front,  even  if  they  have  paid 
for  their  places,  expect  the  actor  to  know  his  business 
better  than  they  do  ;  and  even  if  he  is  wrong  they  like 
him  to  hold  to  his  own  view.  So  with  the  manager. 
They  are  not  such  fools  as  to  think  they  know  better 
than  he  how  to  stage  a  play.  You  must  stand  up  to 
them.  A  bad  first  night  may  cost  me  thousands  of 
pounds  but  the  greater  the  funk  I'm  in  the  less  I 
show  it." 

There  is  the  real  Irving.  It  was  a  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning  speech  ;  cool,  quiet,  collected,  convinced, 
and  entirely  sincere.  The  virile  note  you  heard  from 
him  in  private  goes  far  to  explain  him  on  the  stage. 
It  is  a  commonplace  to  say  that  Irving  owed  much  of 
his  fame  as  an  actor  to  his  personality.  I  have  said 
it  myself.  But  even  a  commonplace  may  be  true,  and 
may  be  a  compliment,  as  this  is,  for  you  can  hardly 
praise  an  actor  better  than  by  saying  that  an  actor's 
success  in  depicting  other  men  is  due  to  his  own  man- 
liness. 

He  lives,  and  will  ever  live,  in  the  memories  of  men 
and  women  and  in  tradition  ;  not  in  books.  There 
have  been  books  about  Irving  which  are  thought  to 
be  disappointing.  I  am  not  expressing  my  own 
opinion  for  I  have  read  none  of  them.  When  I  have 
known  a  man,  I  like  to  keep  my  own  impressions  of 
him.  To  read  a  book  about  him,  except  for  the  facts 
and  for  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  is  to  displace  or 
disturb  one's  own  impressions  and  to  accept  other 
impressions  instead.  The  picture  becomes  a  blur. 
One's  own  memory  may  not  be  accurate,  and  is  pretty 
certain  not  to  be  complete,  but  it  is  one's  own. 

Though  he  had  an  immense  acquaintance  and  a  vast 
number  of  admirers  Irving  had  not  very  many  intimate 


324      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

friends,  and  there  were  sides  o£  his  life  which,  I 
imagine,  he  did  not  reveal  even  to  them.  In  private 
as  in  public  he  played  a  part ;  many  parts.  I  suppose 
I  knew  him  as  well  as  most  men  knew  him  but  I  was 
not  an  intimate  friend.  The  most  I  could  say  is  that 
there  were  moments  of  intimacy,  and  a  long,  friendly 
acquaintance,  perhaps  a  friendship.     I  hope  so. 

The  relation  between  an  actor  and  a  journalist  can 
never  be  entirely  unembarrassed.  The  journalist  must 
speak  his  mind,  and  the  actor  is  apt  to  think  that 
criticism  ought  to  take  the  form  of  eulogy.  It  cannot 
always,  nor  ought  personal  regard  for  the  actor  to 
affect  the  critic's  judgment  though  perhaps  it  some- 
times does.  Whether  it  does  or  not,  a  great  artist 
expects  and  likes  recognition  and  he  is  sensitive  be- 
cause he  is  an  artist.  Irving  could  aiford,  if  anybody 
could,  to  face  the  truth.  He  had  a  great  public  behind 
him.  But  he  had  men  about  him  who  sought  to  per- 
suade him  to  resent  freedom  of  speech.  I  don't  think 
they  succeeded,  or  ever  succeeded  permanently. 

We  all  agree  now  that  his  acting  was  unequal ;  that 
in  some  things  he  was  great ;  in  others  less  great ;  and 
in  some  of  the  most  famous  parts  he  attempted,  such 
as  Macbeth,  he  was  deplorable.  The  most  heroic,  the 
most  masculine,  the  most  tragic  parts  seemed  to  be 
beyond  him.  He  was  an  ideal  lago  but  Othello  was  a 
sealed  book  to  him.  He  could  not  render  the  majesty, 
the  nobility,  the  childlike  simplicity  of  the  Moor. 
And  Lear  was  beyond  him  ;  is  perhaps  beyond 
anybody. 

So  far  as  I  am  concerned  the  production  of  Macbeth 
was  the  critical  moment  in  our  relations,  if  there  were 
ever  a  critical  moment.  I  saw  it  on  the  first  night,  as 
I  saw  many  other  first  nights  at  the  Lyceum,  and  I 
cabled  to  The  Tribune  a  column  of  comments  on  the 


SIR    HENRY    IRVING  325 

performance.  They  were  not  very  favourable.  They 
were  not  meant  to  please  Irving,  nor  yet  to  displease 
him.  The  dispatch  was  a  record  of  first-night  im- 
pressions and  opinions.  Probably  they  were  too  blunt. 
The  English  sometimes  suggest  that  we  Americans 
have  a  habit  of  speaking  our  minds  too  freely  ;  in 
print  and  otherwise.  What  they  soften  here,  we  say 
outright. 

But  in  Sir  Thomas  Fuller's  recent  Life  of  Cecil 
Rhodes,  an  illuminating  and  most  human  book,  he 
tells  this  story.  There  was  an  English  journalist,  now 
dead,  Edmund  Garrett,  who  was  editing  at  Cape 
Town  a  journal  called,  I  think,  The  Cape  Times.  He 
was  a  friend  of  Cecil  Rhodes.  Lunching  one  day  at 
Rhodes's  place,  Groote  Schur,  Garrett  found  his  host 
angry  at  an  article  of  the  day  before  which  ran  counter 
to  his  views  and  perhaps  attacked  him.  Rhodes  told 
him  such  an  article  ought  never  to  have  been  pub- 
lished.    Said  Garrett : 

"  Mr.  Rhodes,  it  is  a  good  thing  for  you  that  your 
paper  should  be  edited  by  a  man  who  doesn't  care  a 
damn  whether  he  pleases  you  or  displeases  you." 

There  was  a  silence.    Then  Rhodes  answered  slowly  : 

"  It  may  be  you  are  right  and  I  am  sorry  to  have 
questioned  it.  I  have  never  tried  to  control  your 
policy  but  I  think  you  might  at  least  have  taken  the 
trouble  to  find  out  the  facts." 

I  am  quoting  from  memory  but  the  illustration  is 
too  apt  to  omit.  Apt  because  here  was  one  English 
journalist,  and  a  distinguished  one,  who  was  as 
downright  as  any  American  could  be,  and  another 
Englishman,  the  greatest  of  his  time,  to  whom  the 
soft  answer  which  turncth  away  wrath  seemed  all 
sufficient. 

Whatever  the  brutality  of  my  criticism  on  Irving's 


326       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Macbeth  may  have  been,  it  put  no  real  strain,  or  no 
lasting  strain,  on  our  relations.  He  himself  preferred 
his  Macbeth  to  all  his  other  creations,  or  rather  to  any 
one  of  them.  If  the  public  did  not,  he  rested  content, 
I  hope,  with  his  own  approval. 

The  range  of  his  powers  as  a  tragedian  was  not  very- 
wide.  He  was  a  comedian  of  the  first  order.  The 
scenes  with  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  in  Hamlet 
were  proof  enough  of  that.  In  character  parts  like 
Louis  XI  he  was  supreme.  And  we  shall  see  what 
Mme.  Sarah  Bernhardt  thought  of  him  in  such  a  play 
as  ^he  Bells.  Take  him  for  all  in  all,  he  was  so 
great  that  nice  criticism  seems  ineffectual.  He  is  a 
haunting  figure.  He  had  possession  of  the  stage  and 
of  the  imaginations  of  men  and  women  during  a 
quarter  of  a  century.  He  can  no  more  be  displaced 
than  Garrick  can  be  displaced.  And  even  Garrick  could 
not  play  everything,  and  in  his  best  parts  he  was  un- 
equal. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

MME.  SARAH  BERNHARDT  AND  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 
—AN    EVENING  AT   THE    LYCEUM 

I 

T  GIVE  Mme.  Sarah  Bernhardt  her  full  name,  but 
there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  except  out  o£ 
respect  to  the  liking  of  New  York  for  needless  exacti- 
tudes. The  full  name  of  the  greatest  of  all  tragedians 
was  Elizabeth  Rachel  Felix,  but  who  ever  spoke  of  her 
otherwise  than  as  Rachel  ?  In  the  same  way,  Paris 
always  calls  its  present  stage  divinity  Sarah.  In  early 
days  I  asked  her  whether  she  liked  it  and  she  said  : 
"  Yes,  of  course.  C'est  un  hommage."  The  French 
Press  used  it  ;  so  I  think  we  may,  if  New  York  does 
not  object.  I  have  heard  it  used  in  private  as  well 
as  in  public,  and  by  men  who  were  on  no  particular 
terms  of  intimacy  with  her. 

The  French  season  in  London  was  over  and  Sarah, 
who  was  staying  on  for  a  little,  asked  me  to  take  her 
to  see  Irving  in  The  Bells.  Sarah  understood,  at  that 
time,  little  or  no  English  and  I  foresaw  that  I  should 
have  to  interpret  as  the  play  went  on.  But  I  wrote  to 
Irving  that  Sarah  wanted  to  see  him.  He  of  course 
was  delighted  and  sent  us  his  best  box  next  to  the 
stage.  Sarah  for  once  was  punctual  and  we  were  in 
our  places  before  the  curtain  went  up. 

Sarah  knew  very  well  that  The  Bells  was  founded  on 
Le  Juif  Polonais  of  Erckmann-Chatrian.     The  story 

r~7 


328       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

was  familiar  to  her  and  she  knew  what  to  expect. 
But  she  had  never  seen  Irving  and  of  him  she  had 
no  idea  what  to  expect.  When  he  entered  she  ap- 
plauded, but  that  she  always  did.  She  had,  more  than 
any  other  actress  I  have  ever  known,  the  sense  of  com- 
radeship. She  was  hon  public.  She  knew  what  ap- 
plause was  worth  to  the  actor  or  actress ;  that  it  is 
to  them  the  breath  of  life.  She  has  often  told  me  that 
the  want  of  it  is,  even  to  her,  embarrassing  and  even 
distressing.  A  cold  house  is  an  impossible  house  and 
acting  becomes  impossible. 

*'  They  say  I  sometimes  walk  through  my  part. 
Perhaps  I  do,  but  if  I  do  it  is  always  the  audience  which 
begins  the  walk.  The  audience  and  the  actor  are  two 
parts  of  the  same  whole,  and  neither  can  get  on  with- 
out the  other.  They  say  I  have  moods.  I  don't  deny 
it,  but  I  am  never  careless  to  a  house  which  is  friendly 
to  me." 

From  the  moment  of  Irving's  entrance  upon  the 
stage  she  sat  absorbed.  Understand  his  language  she 
could  not  but  she  studied  the  man,  watched  every 
movement,  every  expression,  every  gesture.  Now 
Irving  was  before  all  things  a  personality.  You  might 
like  his  acting  of  a  particular  part  or  you  might  not, 
but  you  felt  yourself  in  the  presence  of  a  man.  It 
was  a  commanding  and  a  sympathetic  presence  at  the 
same  time.  I  doubt  whether  Sarah  had  ever  heard 
this  said  of  him.  She  knew  only  his  general  reputation, 
and  he  was  then  at  the  height  of  his  fame.  But  the 
attention  she  paid  to  him  was  quite  different  from 
that  she  gave  to  an  actor  as  an  actor.  I  sat  looking, 
not  at  Irving  but  at  her,  and  it  was  plain  that  his 
magnetism  had  made  itself  felt  from  the  beginning. 
For  what  else  passed  upon  the  stage  she  had  at  first 
no  eyes.     There  was   Irving  and   there  was  nobody 


BERNHARDT   AND    IRVING  329 

else.  Presently,  without  turning  from  the  stage,  she 
said  to  me  : 

"  Mais  il  m'enerve  ;  dans  le  bon  sens,  bien  entendu." 

No  literal  translation  would  convey  to  an  English 
reader  what  she  meant.  The  word  hypnotize  is  too 
strong,  but  it  may  serve.  Sarah  was  not  in  a  trance 
for  she  was  in  her  most  critical  and  perceptive  mood. 
The  best  proof  of  it  was  not  merely  what  she  said.  I 
soon  found  that  I  was  seldom  wanted  to  translate. 
•  Knowing  the  plot  and  the  general  course  of  the  play, 
she  was  in  no  difficulty  as  to  what  was  going  on  or 
about  the  stage  business.  But  from  Irving's  expression 
and  gestures  she  inferred  what  he  was  saying  ;  what 
he  must  be  saying.  This  was  to  me  a  new  kind  of 
thought  reading  and  it  appeared  to  be,  unlike  thought 
reading  in  general,  unerring.  I  had  seen  Irving  often 
as  Mathias.  I  had  never  seen  him  play  the  part  with 
the  same  precision,  the  same  abundance  and  accuracy 
of  detail,  the  same  illuminating  touches  both  in  the 
great  scenes  and  in  the  ordinary  progress  of  the  play, 
or  the  same  inspiration.  He  was  playing  to  Sarah. 
She  was  the  inspiration.  He  knew  that  she  knew  no 
English,  and  in  order  that  she  might  appreciate  the 
whole  he  was  playing  it  in  pantomime.  He  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  all  about  his  voice,  and  his  voice, 
left  to  itself,  grew  stronger  and  clearer  and  more 
melodious.     Sarah  said : 

"  Why  do  they  find  fault  with  his  voice  ?  The 
tones  are  pure  and  full,  the  sentences  flow  smoothly, 
his  elocution  is  rhythmical  and  distinct." 

She  began  after  a  time,  in  the  commercial  phrase, 
to  take  stock,  not  of  the  man  only  but  of  the  actor: 

"  But  he  is  a  great  actor.  He  docs  things,  some 
things,  which  no  French  actor  can  do.  He  makes  no 
mistakes.     He  never   misses  a  point.     He  docs  what 


330       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

he  likes  with  his  audience ;  yes,  with  you  and  me  as 
well  as  the  rest.  Don't  tell  me  you  don't  think  him 
great." 

I  did  not  tell  her  that,  for  I  did  think  him  a  great 
actor  ;  in  the  right  parts,  and  Mathias  was  one  of 
them.  The  Bells,  of  course,  is  a  play  to  which  you 
must  give  yourself  up.  You  do  not  surrender  your 
critical  faculty  but  you  must  accept  the  atmosphere  ; 
and  live  and  move  and  have  your  being  in  that  atmo- 
sphere till  the  curtain  goes  down.  I  thought  of  what 
Sarah  had  said  about  Coquelin  ;  an  actor,  but  not  an 
artist.  But  she  thought  Irving  an  artist  also.  He 
had  the  art  temperament. 

Nor  was  she  disconcerted  by  such  things  as  the 
throwing  open  of  the  door  of  the  great  stove,  and  the 
firelight  flaming  out  blood  red  on  Irving's  face. 

"  C'est  un  gros  effet,  mais  c'est  un  effet." 

In  other  words  a  legitimate  effect,  an  appeal  to  the 
less  delicate  intuitions  of  the  audience  ;  to  the  men 
and  women  who  required  at  every  moment  and  by  all 
just  means  that  the  identity  of  the  murderer  should  be 
brought  home  to  them. 

Mr.  Henry  James  said  of  Irving  in  The  Bells,  "  You 
would  know  him  for  a  murderer  a  mile  off."  The 
inevitable  exaggeration  of  the  epigram  is  there  ;  and 
the  grain  of  truth  also.  Mr.  James  said  it  rather  too 
contemptuously.  It  was  a  reproach.  Mr.  James  has 
a  great  knowledge  of  the  theatre  and  is  a  critic  of 
renown.  But  he  did  not  in  this  instance  distinguish 
between  his  own  perceptions  and  those  of  the  audience 
in  general.  He  did  not  himself  require  to  have  it 
brought  to  his  attention  that  Mathias  was  a  murderer. 
He  forgot  that  the  average  playgoer  might  wish  to  be 
reminded  of  it.  And  Irving,  like  that  great  comedian 
at   the   Bar   the  late  Lord  Russell,  had  two  sides  to 


BERNHARDT   AND    IRVING  331 

his  face.  He  wore  a  mask  to  the  personages  in  the 
play,  and  on  the  uncovered  half  of  that  speaking 
countenance  he  allowed  the  spectators  to  see  the 
ravages  of  remorse  and  the  stamp  of  guilt  which  be- 
trayed his  guilt  to  them,  but  to  them  only.  Having 
Mr.  James's  remark  in  mind  I  asked  Sarah  if  she  thought 
he  made  his  crime  too  evident.     She  answered  : 

"  Certainly  not.  He  is  a  murderer  and  these  sug- 
gestions of  guilt  are  so  many  psychological  truths.  No 
criminal  ever  hides  his  crime  completely  ;  least  of  all 
on  the  stage.  And  you  must  never  perplex  your 
audience.  Especially  an  English  audience.  If  you 
can  imagine  yourself  on  the  stage  your  suspicion  will 
not  be  excited." 

So  I  think  we  may  set  Sarah's  testimony  against 
Mr.  Henry  James's  and  rest  in  the  comfortable  belief 
that  Irving  knew  his  business.  His  method  in  this 
matter  was  indeed  part  of  his  stage  management.  He 
did  not  restrict  stage  management  to  mechanical  or 
artificial  arrangements.  His  ideal,  in  respect  of  elocu- 
tion and  of  the  tuition  of  individual  actors  and 
actresses,  came  far  nearer  to  the  French  ideal  than 
that  of  other  English  managers.  Sarah  thought  him 
far  and  away  the  best  she  had  ever  seen. 

"  Not  at  the  Frangais  itself  have  I  ever  seen  any- 
thing so  good.  The  way  in  which  he  uses  the  lights 
is  his  own.  No  stage  in  France  is  lighted  as  this  is. 
None  has  the  same  scheme  of  illumination  or  uses  it 
in  the  same  way.  The  groupings  are  just  as  good,  and 
all  the  stage  business  shows  a  master  hand." 

She  asked  if  I  knew  whether  Irving  himself  looked 
after  this  all.  I  said  yes.  It's  not  only  a  master  hand 
but  a  master  mind  ;  and  it  is  Irving's.  He  has,  of 
course,  able  lieutenants  but  the  conception  is  his  and 
at  rehearsal  no  detail  escapes  him. 


332       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

"  I  was  sure  of  it,"  said  Sarah,  and  added  : 

"  It's  not  merely  that  the  details  are  so  well  con- 
sidered but  there's  a  general  effect  which  I  can  only 
call  imaginative.  Whoever  staged  this  play  had  in  his 
mind  from  the  beginning  a  complete  conception  of 
the  whole,  as  a  whole.  He  saw  it  all.  He  understood 
the  relation  of  each  part  to  the  whole.  What  you  do 
not  see  is  almost  as  remarkable  as  what  you  do  see. 
He  has  known  what  to  leave  out.  I  am  certain  he  has 
suppressed  much,  and  either  deleted  or  modified  points 
which  were  good  in  themselves  but  not  good  for  the 
general  impression  of  the  piece.  He  is  an  artist  who 
understands  that  nothing  is  good  unless  in  the  right 
place.  Stage  management  in  his  hands  is  an  intellec- 
tual triumph.    He  has  not  his  equal  among  us." 

Yet  I  had  often  heard  Sarah  describe  and  extol  the 
sternness  of  the  discipline  on  the  stage  of  the  Frangais. 
There  the  regisseur  is  master.  He  is  more  than  master. 
He  is  a  despot. 

"  He  has  made  me  recite  a  single  line  fifty  times  till 
I  delivered  it  to  please  him  ;   me,  Sarah  !  " 

But  in  the  rehearsal  of  a  new  piece  the  author 
steps  in.  He  is  then  the  despot,  and  from  his  decree 
there  is  no  appeal. 

When  7he  Bells  came  to  an  end  Sarah  turned  to 
me  with  a  long  sigh  : 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  acting  myself.  I  have  never 
spent  such  an  evening." 

But  the  end  of  the  evening  was  not  yet. 

II 

A    LYCEUM    SUPPER "  LA    TOSCA  "    IN    PARIS 

No,  it  was  not  the  end  of  the  evening.  I  had  seen 
The   Bells   and    Irving   anew,    through    Mme.    Sarah 


BERNHARDT   AND    IRVING  333 

Bernhardt's  eyes  ;  understanding  the  play  and  the 
actor  more  completely  than  ever  before,  by  help  of 
her  intelligence.  When  she  chose,  that  great  actress 
could  be  a  great  critic  ;  appreciative,  sympathetic, 
kindly  ;  but  always  loyal  to  her  art.  What  she  had 
said  of  Irving,  she  thought.  She  may  have  said  less 
than  she  thought  but  never  more.  She  had  seen  in 
him  those  qualities  which  had  created  for  him  a 
place  by  himself;  and  put  him  in  a  class  by  him- 
self. Sometimes  denied  to  him  by  English  critics, 
this  most  subtle  of  French  critics  had  recognized 
them. 

Criticism  in  France,  whether  dramatic  or  other, 
is  a  more  exact  science  than  criticism  in  England. 
When  it  is  dramatic,  its  relation  to  the  stage  is  far 
more  intimate  than  here,  where  the  critic  has  but 
seldom  the  training  or  equipment  which  only  a  know- 
ledge of  the  stage,  and  of  acting  as  seen  on  and  from 
the  stage,  can  give.  Sarah,  of  course,  had  this  last 
in  a  supreme  degree.  She  was  quite  free,  moreover, 
from  jealousy.  Some  of  the  French  actors  who  came 
here  were  not.  Coquelin  was  not ;  though  in  his 
case  there  was  a  feeling  which  predominated  over 
jealousy.  He  held  his  own  art  to  be  so  immeasurably 
superior  to  all  others  that  he  did  less  than  justice  to 
others.  But,  as  we  have  already  seen,  Sarah  thought 
Coquelin  an  actor  but  not  an  artist.  Ever  since  this 
night  I  have  found  Sarah's  eulogies  upon  Irving  the 
best  answer  to  Irving's  detractors.  If  the  detractors 
were  not  convinced  they  were  silenced. 

Irving  had  asked  us  to  come  to  supper  after  the  play, 
in  the  Beefsteak  Rooms  in  the  Lyceum  Theatre. 
With  a  merciful  kindness  and  tact  for  which  we  were 
both  grateful,  he  had  asked  nobody  else.  The  Beef- 
steak  suppers   were    often    delightful   but,   as    Sarah 


334       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

and  Irving  had  never  met,  this  was  to  each  of  them  a 
chance  of  knowing  the  other  too  valuable  to  be  thrown 
away.  A  free  talk  between  two  people  who  had  no 
language  in  common  was  difficult  enough  at  best. 
Irving  had  no  French  and  Sarah  had  no  English, 
so  that  in  a  company  there  could  have  been  no 
meeting  of  minds.  By  themselves,  with  an  inter- 
preter, it  might  be  managed. 

They  met  on  even  terms.  Irving  had  when  he 
chose  the  grand  manner  and  so  had  Sarah,  and  both 
were  on  their  best  behaviour.  Irving  received  his 
guest  with  distinction,  and  Sarah  greeted  her  host 
with  just  that  touch  of  ceremony  which  is  expected 
on  the  stage  ;  to  be  dropped  instantly  for  a  cordial 
acceptance  of  his  welcome.  She  thanked  him  for  the 
box  he  had  sent  her  and  burst  at  once,  like  the  true 
Frenchwoman  she  was,  into  a  shower  of  compliments 
on  his  Mathias. 

Said  Irving  in  his  polished  way : 

"  They  are  compliments  which  I  cannot  deserve, 
but  I  like  to  have  them  and  I  acknowledge  them  as 
compliments." 

But  Sarah  broke  in  : 

"  No,  not  compliments  ;  not  as  between  artists. 
I  offer  you  none.  I  owe  to  you  the  truth.  You  can 
afford  to  hear  it,  as  I  could." 

Her  compliments,  or  whatever  they  were,  had  to 
be  translated  sentence  by  sentence  into  English, 
so  that  the  full  effect  of  the  explosion  was  missed, 
but  it  was  none  the  less  overwhelming.  The  colour 
rose  in  Irving's  pale  cheeks,  and  spread,  and  the  eyes 
grew  luminous  and  deep.  He  was  not  sure  what 
impression  he  might  have  made  on  a  French  mind. 
He  coveted  Sarah's  praise  and  he  had  it  in  full  measure. 
He  asked  me  afterward  whether  she  had  said  to  me 


BERNHARDT   AND   IRVING  335 

in  the  box  as  much  as  she  had  said  to  him  and  when 
I  told  him  "  More,"  he  was  content. 

When  we  sat  down  to  supper  the  talk  turned  upon 
things  dramatic.  To  that  they  kept,  and  they  dis- 
coursed through  nearly  four  hours.  They  discussed 
technicalities,  and  technicalities  of  the  stage  are  not 
always  easy  to  translate  from  French  into  English 
or  vice  versa.  The  drama  has  a  vocabulary  of  its 
own.  But  if  I  did  not  know  both  French  and  English 
for  a  particular  term  I  could  generally  paraphrase, 
and  so  the  extraordinary  conversation  flowed  on.  If 
it  was  difficult  it  was  illuminating.  Here  were  the 
two  consummate  artists  of  the  French  and  English 
theatre ;  the  greatest  French  actress,  the  greatest 
English  actor  ;  and  each  of  them  with  a  more  com- 
plete knowledge  of  all  matters  pertaining  to  the  theatre 
than  anybody  save  the  other.  As  I  listened  I  felt 
how  little  experience  had  taught  me  and  into  what 
new  realms  of  knowledge  I  was  being  shown  the  way. 
I  had  never  learnt  so  much  as  I  learnt  in  those  hours. 

Nor  was  it  only  the  things  of  the  stage.  I  had 
known  both  Irving  and  Sarah  long  and  well.  But  here 
was  a  new  Irving  and  a  new  Sarah.  They  revealed 
themselves  to  each  other,  and  incidentally  to  me. 
For  the  first  time  I  felt  as  if  I  were  seeing  the  theatre 
and  some  of  its  mysteries  from  the  inside.  I  saw, 
at  any  rate,  what  it  meant  to  those  who  were  of  the 
mystery  themselves.  The  talk  was  simple,  true, 
direct.  They  put  off  all  artifice,  pretence,  disguise 
and  the  masks  they  wear  to  the  public.  The  two  artists 
opened  their  souls  to  each  other,  and  in  their  frank- 
ness, in  their  half-unconscious  disclosures  of  their  real 
natures  and  their  real  thoughts,  they  were  more 
admirable  than  ever.  The  intuitions  of  art  stood 
to  them  in  the  pl.qce  of  that  community  of  speech 


336       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

which  was  denied  them.  They  had  more  than  their 
art  in  common.  They  were  sympathetic  to  each 
other.    They  made  friends. 

I  will  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  here,  and  in  the  most 
unlikely  way,  was  a  beginning  of  that  better  under- 
standing between  England  and  France  which  was 
in  later  days,  and  under  an  august  inspiration,  to  take 
the  place  of  old  enmities.  In  London  and  in  New 
York  that  may  seem  an  exaggeration.  It  would  not 
seem  so  in  Paris  where  the  theatre  has  a  direct  and 
continuing  influence  upon  life  and  upon  opinion. 
Nor  need  it  seem  so  even  in  London ;  or  not  always. 
You  would  not  think  so  if  you  had  seen  Sarah  holding 
a  court  in  her  art  gallery  in  Piccadilly  to  which  came 
men  and  women  of  great  distinction  in  great  numbers. 
Last  of  all  Mr.  Gladstone  came  also,  whom  Sarah 
received  (Tegal  a  egal,  as  Victor  Hugo  said  he  received 
the  Emperor  of  Brazil.  The  company  fell  away, 
leaving  as  for  royalties  an  open  space  about  the  two, 
and  they  conversed  apart  for  some  minutes.  Perhaps 
that  also  was  another  beginning  of  the  later  entente. 
Or  you  might  date  it,  if  you  liked,  from  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's appearance  at  the  theatre  when  Sarah  was 
playing  Phedre  ;  the  old  man  in  a  stage  box,  leaning 
forward  ;  a  book  of  the  play  before  him  ;  his  hand 
to  his  ear  ;  his  blazing  eyes  fixed  mostly  on  the 
tragedienne,  for  he  needed  .the  book  only  on  account 
of  his  deafness  ;  and,  when  it  was  over,  going  behind 
the  scenes  to  offer  his  homage  to  the  artist. 

But  I  like  to  think  of  Sarah  and  Irving  as  having 
planted  the  first  seed.  It  was  not  known.  The  news- 
papers published  no  account.  If  Paul  planted  there 
was  then  no  ApoUos  to  water.  But  it  came  up  as 
a  flower  if  not  as  a  tree  ;  it  had  fragrance  if  not 
strength  ;  and  it  had  beauty. 


BERNHARDT   AND    IRVING  337 

One  hears  of  girls  who  wish  to  go  on  the  stage 
because  they  think  it  an  easy  H£e.  They  might 
take  a  lesson,  or  several  lessons,  out  o£  Sarah's  life  ; 
a  life  of  great  successes  won  by  tremendous  efforts. 
The  public  thinks  her  a  genius,  and  these  girls  think 
that  because  of  her  genius  she  may  dispense  with  study 
and  the  drudgery  of  the  profession.  Sarah  herself 
never  thought  that.  I  will  offer  these  ambitious 
young  ladies  one  example  of  her  method. 

When  La  Tosca  was  produced  in  Paris  at  the  Porte 
St.  Martin  I  saw  it  the  first  night.  During  the  second 
ent/acte  I  went  to  Sarah's  dressing-room  to  pay  the 
compliment  one  is  expected  to  pay  in  Paris  if  one  knows 
the  actress.  She  was  playing,  we  all  thought,  her  best. 
The  success  was  brilliant,  the  applause  unstinted. 
Needless  to  say  that  no  French  author,  and  certainly 
not  Sardou,  would  allow  his  piece  to  be  produced 
until  he  was  satisfied  with  the  rehearsals.  Still  less, 
perhaps,  would  any  actress  of  Sarah's  position  come 
before  the  footlights  until  her  own  conception  and 
composition  of  a  new  part  were  to  her  mind,  and  until 
the  ensemble  was  complete.  In  Paris  these  things  are 
taken  for  granted.  The  French  critic  is  inexorable  ; 
the  French  audience  not  less  so,  and  a  play  not  per- 
fectly rehearsed  would  get  scant  mercy  from  either 
critic  or  audience. 

The  next  morning  I  left  for  Italy,  was  gone  six 
weeks,  and  on  returning  to  Paris  went  again  to  see 
La  Tosca,  and  again  between  the  acts  went  round  to 
see  Sarah.     I  said  : 

"  You  are  in  great  form  to-night.  It  is  much  better 
than  it  was  on  the  first  night." 

There  came  into  the  face,  and  especially  into  the 
eyes,  of  the  actress  one  of  those  challenging  looks 
one  saw  there  when  she  was  in  a  warlike  mood.     The 


338       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

blue  of  the  eyes,  sometimes  soft,  hardened  into  the 
famous  bleu  d^acier^  with  points  of  flashing  light  as 
hard  as  the  steel-blue  itself.  I  saw  the  storm  rising 
but  I  had  no  idea  why.  She  stood  silent  for  a  second 
or  two  as  if  to  allow  her  mood  to  be  seen  ;  then  in  her 
most  metallic  tone : 

"  Ah,  you  think  I  play  my  part  better  than  when 
you  first  saw  it  ?  " 

"  You  certainly  do." 

"  And  you  think  it  is  because  I  am  in  good  form 
to-night  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  certainly  are  in  good  form." 

"  Merely  mon  ami.  But  you  are  right  about  one 
thing.  It  is  better  than  it  was  the  first  night,  and  I  will 
tell  you  why  it  is  better.  It  is  because  I  have  worked 
on  it  six  hours  a  day  for  six  weeks.    That  is  why." 

My  mistake  had  been  in  suggesting  that  the  improve- 
ment was  because  of  her  being  in  good  form  that 
particular  evening.  She  wanted  credit  for  her  six 
weeks'  hard  labour.  She  was  then  at  the  summit  of 
her  fame.  She  had  done  her  best  with  her  part  for 
the  first  night.  She  had  satisfied  her  public,  and  the 
Press,  and  Sardou.  But  because  she  had  not  satisfied 
herself,  the  artist  that  was  in  her,  she  toiled  on. 
And  that  is  the  history  of  Sarah  Bernhardt's  art  life. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

MR.   THEODORE    ROOSEVELT  * 


AS    POLICEMAN    AND    AS    GOVERNOR    OF    NEW   YORK    STATE 

TONG  before  Mr.  Roosevelt  became  famous  I 
knew  him  ;  and  during  the  height  of  his  fame  ; 
and  now  that  it  seems,  for  the  moment,  a  Httle  ob- 
scured I  think  I  may  set  down  a  few  impressions. 
We  were  told  here  that,  since  the  unhappy  results  of 
his  attempt  in  the  autumn  of  1910  to  resume  control 
of  the  Republican  Party,  he  had  been  laid  gently  on 
the  shelf,  and  that  the  American  people  were  willing 
he  should  rest  for  a  time  from  his  arduous  labours 
in  their  behalf.  But  the  English  who  have  seen  some- 
thing of  Mr.  Roosevelt  seem  to  doubt  whether  he 
will  ever  be  content  with  a  shelf  as  an  arena  for  his 
quenchless  energies,  or  ever  consider  himself  in  need 
of  a  rest.  Said  Carlyle  of  Bismarck,  in  1866,  after  he 
had  brought  Austria  to  her  knees : 

"  He  is  the  only  man  who  has  been  appointed 
by  God  Almighty  his  Vicegerent  here  on  this  earth, 
and  knows  that  he  has  been  appointed." 

I  am  very  far  from  meaning  to  suggest  that  any 
parallel  can  be  drawn  between  the  creator  of  the 
German  Empire  and  Mr.  Roosevelt.  It  is  however 
possible  that  the  ex-President,  while  he  was  President 
or  even  before  and  since,  conceived  that  his  mission, 

*  The  first  four  of  these  Roosevelt  papers  were  written  in  August, 
191 1  ;   the  last  two  in  November  and  later. 

339 


340       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

or  commission,  was  apostolic.  Even  in  England  he 
thought  it  his  duty  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the 
heathen.  He  would  not  have  been  rude  enough  to 
describe  his  admiring  hosts  as  heathen,  and  he  did  not. 
But  it  was  felt  that,  to  Mr.  Roosevelt's  mind,  the 
heathen  were,  and  always  are,  those  who  did  not  agree 
with  him,  or  did  not  act  as  he  would  have  them. 
But  I  must  leave  England  till  its  turn  comes. 

My  experiences  o£  Mr.  Roosevelt  relate  largely  to 
his  official  life  ;  necessarily,  since  till  he  ceased  to  be 
President  he  had  been  almost  continuously  in  public 
life  for  near  thirty  years.  But  they  will  be  personal 
reminiscences  and  impressions  ;  not  historical.  As  I 
was  abroad  during  his  legislative  and  Civil  Service 
career,  I  begin  with  1895-7  :  the  years  during  which 
he  was  President  of  the  New  York  City  Police  Board. 
He  said  to  me  one  evening : 

"  Come  to  the  Police  Head-quarters  to-morrow 
morning  at  eleven.  We  are  going  to  hold  one  of  our 
weekly  courts,  and  you  might  like  to  see  how  the  police 
Commissioners  administer  justice  on  their  own  men." 

It  was  interesting  enough  ;  perhaps  chiefly  interest- 
ing to  a  lawyer  from  the  disregard  of  legal  methods 
and  of  the  ordinary  rules  of  evidence.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
had  his  own  rules  for  getting  at  the  truth,  but  the 
truth  and  only  the  truth  was  what  he  wanted  to  get 
at ;  and  perhaps  generally  did.  His  intuitions  were 
almost  feminine  ;  his  fairness  was  conspicuous  ;  and 
mercy  went  with  justice ;  a  much-needed  handmaid. 
When  we  left  the  court-room  for  luncheon,  on  foot 
and  at  race-track  speed,  I  asked  Mr.  Roosevelt  whether 
he  found  police  work  interesting. 

"  Interesting  ?    I've  never  had  such  fun  in  my  life." 

"  Fun."  That  struck  a  keynote.  Much  later, 
and    in    very    grave    circumstances,    Mr.    Roosevelt 


MR.    THEODORE   ROOSEVELT        341 

showed  himself  capable  of  taking  humorous  views  of 
affairs,  and  of  extracting  fun  from  them.  Whether 
his  fellow  Commissioners  got  as  much  fun  as  he  did 
out  of  it  may  be  doubtful.  He  treated  them  with 
civility,  with  consideration,  but  the  opinion  he 
respected  was  his  own. 

New  York  had  experience  of  this  respect  for  his 
own  opinion  in  very  serious  matters  ;  some  of  them 
serious  enough  to  interest  Europe,  and  to  fill  much 
space  in  The  Times.  In  the  midst  of  one  such  crisis 
I  went  to  Oyster  Bay  for  the  week-end.  Sagamore 
Hill  was  not  then  so  large  a  house  as  it  is  now,  nor 
had  Oyster  Bay  become  a  world-famous  name.  One 
important  English  journal  believed  it  to  be  in  Florida. 
The  charm  of  it,  apart  from  pleasant  scenery,  was  its 
simplicity  ;  an  American,  or  what  Jefferson  would 
have  called  Republican,  simplicity.  Mrs.  Roosevelt 
ruled  over  it  with  a  gentleness,  a  composure,  which 
more  or  less  disguised  the  firmness  beneath.  I  heard 
it  said  long  afterward  that  hers  was  the  influence 
which  weighed  most  with  her  husband  ;  at  critical 
moments  and  in  the  ordinary  course  of  life.  I  can 
well  believe  it.  Later,  and  in  far  other  circumstances, 
the  atmosphere  of  Oyster  Bay  was  to  be  breathed  in 
the  White  House. 

I  should  say,  though  probably  I  ought  not,  that 
throughout  his  public  life  and  in  all  his  intercourse 
with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  it  was  Mr.  Roose- 
velt's aim  to  convince  them  that  his  and  their  views 
of  social  life  were  on  a  level.  The  fact  remained  that 
he  was  born  and  bred  what  is  called  a  gentleman. 
I  do  not  mean  to  suggest  that  he  sought  to  disguise 
it.  What  he  sought,  or  what  he  suggested,  consciously 
or  unconsciously,  was  the  essential  oneness  of  all  honest 
and  honourable  men,  to  whatever  station  in  life  they 


342       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

had  been  called.  Neither  riches  nor  social  rank 
counted.  What  counted  was  the  manliness  of  the 
man.  Given  that,  he  could  accept — I  had  almost 
written  tolerate — much.  At  Oyster  Bay  he  had  some- 
thing to  accept.  For  one  reason  or  another  uncon- 
genial personalities  were  to  be  met  there,  and  there- 
fore it  was  that  I  then  had  the  chance  of  observing 
the  large  Democracy  in  his  character  and  nature. 
He  cared  little  or  nothing  for  mere  observances 
from  those  who  were  in  a  different  class.  But  let  a 
man  in  his  own  class  forget  himself  and  he  was  quickly 
reminded  of  his  lapse.  Not  long  after  he  had  been 
chosen  Governor  such  a  man,  a  friend,  hailed  him  in 
a  New  York  club  :  "  How  are  you,  Teddy  !  "  There 
came  a  look  into  Mr.  Roosevelt's  eyes  which  induced 
his  friend  to  add  :  "  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  I  mean 
Governor."  Whereas  from  the  multitude  he  seemed 
to  regard  "  Teddy  "  as  a  term  of  affection,  or  perhaps 
of  respect. 

At  Oyster  Bay  he  came  into  the  room  where  I  was 
looking  over  a  completed  cable  dispatch  to  The  Times. 
It  related  to  a  subject  we  had  been  discussing,  and  I 
saw  what  I  thought  an  inquiring  look  in  his  eyes,  and 
answered,  "  Yes,  it  does."  As  the  look  of  inquiry 
persisted,  I  said : 

"  It's   rather    against   rules    but    there's    really   no 
reason  why  you  shouldn't  read  it  if  you  care  to." 
And  he  did  ;   handing  it  back  with  the  remark : 
"  But  your  point  of  view  is  very  American." 
"  Why  else  do  you  suppose   The  Times  chose  an 
American  as  its  American  representative  ?     It's  the 
American  point  of  view  they  want.     No  other  could 
be  of  so  much  use  to  them." 

Which  I  thought  obvious,  but  it  seemed  slightly 
to  surprise  Mr.  Roosevelt  at  that  time. 


MR.   THEODORE   ROOSEVELT        343 

His  belief  in  himself  and  in  his  own  opinion  was 
presently  to  become  so  familiar  to  the  American  people 
that  it  is  needless  to  dwell  on  it.  But  his  friends  first 
knew  how  complete  it  was  when  he  threw  up  his 
Assistant  Secretaryship  of  the  Navy  to  enlist  his 
regiment  of  Rough  Riders  and  take  them  to  Cuba 
for  what  we  called  the  Spanish  War.  All  his  friends 
advised  him  against  it  and  told  him  he  was  sacrificing 
his  future  ;  the  prophetic  vision  not  being  theirs. 
He  answered : 

"  If  I  believed  it  would  end  my  career  I  should  none 
the  less  go.  I  have  urged  on  this  war.  If  I  should 
stay  in  Washington  while  it  is  fought  I  should  be 
disgraced ;  I  should  be  ridiculous." 

And  thus  it  was  that  he  came  to  be  the  historian 
of  those  military  excursions  in  Cuba,  and  to  give 
Mr.  Dooley  the  opportunity  of  writing  his  master- 
piece on  Teddy  Alone  in  Cuba  ;  with  a  lunch  at  the 
White  House  as  his  reward.  For  "  Teddy's  "  temper 
was  proof  against  the  Irishman's  "  fun." 

However,  in  those  days  the  American  people  took 
serious  views  of  the  Spanish  War  and  have  had  occasion 
to  take  serious  views  since  ;  and  of  Mr.  Roosevelt 
as  Governor  of  New  York  and  President ;  a  child  of 
the  War.  Some  time  after  he  had  been  installed  as 
Governor  I  spent  two  or  three  days  with  him  at 
Albany  in  that  "  Executive  Mansion  "  which  the  State 
provides  as  a  residence  for  its  Chief  Magistrate. 
Mrs.  Roosevelt  was  away  and  my  hostess  was  a  young 
lady  whose  name  has  since  floated  round  the  world  ; 
then  a  girl  of  fifteen,  with  a  brilliant  manner  and  a 
friendly  conception  of  her  duty  to  her  father's  guests 
which  captivated  them  all.  Even  in  her  early  girlhood 
Miss  Alice  Roosevelt  was  very  competent,  thoughtful, 
picturesque,  with  an  inexhaustible  stock  of  pleasant 


344       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

surprises.  Said  Governor  Roosevelt  next  morning  at 
breakfast : 

"  I  want  you  to  come  to  the  State  House  and  spend 
the  day  with  me  in  the  Executive  Chamber.  You  shall 
see  everything  and  hear  everything.  I  want  you  to 
know  how  the  State  of  New  York  is  governed." 

We  walked  over.  Republican  simplicity  and  a 
certain  carelessness  of  tenue  was  still  the  note,  as  at 
Oyster  Bay.  The  Governor  kept  no  state  and  took 
little  thought  of  appearances.  For  his  progress  through 
the  streets  of  his  capital  he  wore  a  lounge  suit  and  a 
soft,  black,  shapeless,  slouch  hat ;  but  he  walked  as  if 
his  time  belonged  to  the  State  and  every  minute  had 
a  value.  From  ten  o'clock  till  six  in  the  afternoon 
people  flowed  into  and  out  of  the  Executive  Chamber. 
Politicians,  many  of  them,  to  whom  politics  were  the 
most  important  business  of  State,  but  many  who  had 
real  business  to  transact.  The  Governor  sat  at  his 
desk ;  his  visitors  sat  or  stood  as  the  case  might 
be.  Some  were  dismissed  with  a  few  decisive  words ; 
the  Governor  judged  from  an  opening  sentence  or 
two  how  much  time  need  be  spared  to  each.  They 
came  from  all  over  the  State,  on  every  sort  of  errand. 
There  were  State  officials,  municipal  also,  though  I 
cannot  recollect  that  Tammany  had  a  representative 
that  day  ;  and  private  citizens  not  less  important, 
some  of  them,  than  the  holders  of  State  office.  The 
Corporations  were  there  ;  especially  railway  corpora- 
tions ;  a  College  President  ;  and  the  Speaker  of  the 
Assembly.  The  procession  that  moved  through  the 
Chamber  was  a  microcosm  of  the  State.  When  secre- 
taries came  in  with  papers  to  sign  I  was  asked  to  look 
at  some  of  them.  When  a  Senator  approached  the 
Governor,  to  him  I  was  expected  to  listen  as  to  lesser 
men ;  to  his  surprise  and  perhaps  displeasure.    At  five 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        345 

o'clock  arrived  the  reporters,  to  whom  the  Governor 
gave  audience  in  mass.  He  and  they  were  evidently 
on  good  terms.  I  had  never  seen  the  interview 
transacted  in  that  way  and  when  I  remarked  on  it 
he  said : 

"  But  don't  you  see  what  a  convenience  it  is  ? 
I  am  left  in  peace  all  day,  and  they  all  know  that  at 
live  o'clock  they  will  all  hear  all  the  news  there  is,  and 
to  no  paper  is  any  preference  shown." 

Excellent,  no  doubt,  from  the  Governor's  point  of 
view,  but  it  reduced  journalism  to  a  kind  of  trades 
union  level  with  its  "  one  man  as  good  as  another  " 
maxim ;  equalizing  chances  but  neutralizing  the 
advantages  to  which  superior  energy  and  capacity  were 
entitled. 

An  interesting  day  all  through  and  I  learned  my 
lesson,  though  not  perhaps  just  the  lesson  I  was  meant 
to  learn.  As  we  walked  away  from  the  State  House 
the  Governor  asked  me  whether  I  now  understood 
better  than  in  the  morning  how  the  State  of  New  York 
was  governed. 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  do." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  All  I  can  say  is  that  the  State  seems  to  be  governed 
by  the  will  of  Theodore  Roosevelt." 

An  answer  which  he  did  not  appear  to  expect, 
but  it  was  inevitable.  In  view  of  all  that  has  since 
happened  it  has  become  a  commonplace. 

There  was  a  dinner  in  the  evening  with  a  company 
of  guests  various  enough  to  show,  as  perhaps  it  was 
meant  to  show,  how  little  politics  were  allowed  to 
affect  social  relations.  There  were  men  of  all  parties 
and  of  no  parties.  Tammany  was  there  in  the  person 
of  an  eminent  East  Side  district  captain.  The  Court 
of  Appeals  was  represented  by  one  of  its  best  judges. 


346       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

There  were  law-makers  and  law-breakers  ;  and  the 
judiciary  to  hold  the  balance  even  between  the  two. 
The  Governor  had  laid  aside  his  robes  of  State,  if  he 
ever  had  any,  and  was  no  longer  Governor  but 
Theodore  Roosevelt ;  genial,  cordial,  making  no 
distinction  of  persons ;  his  guests  all  on  an  equality  so 
long  as  they  were  his  guests.  Yet  the  note  of  authority 
was  never  long  absent ;  it  was  only  softened  because 
we  were  guests  and  he  was  host. 


II 

AS    PRESIDENT    OF    THE    UNITED    STATES 

The  two  or  three  days  I  spent  with  Governor 
Roosevelt  at  Albany  left  me  with  the  impression  that 
his  masterful  good  intentions  would  lead  him  far. 
We  all  now  know  that  they  did,  though  whether  we 
have  even  yet  measured  the  whole  distance  may  be  a 
question.  For  the  considered  judgment  of  the  com- 
munity embodied  in  statutes  he  seemed  to  have  less 
respect  than  for  his  own  individual  opinion.  He  had, 
I  thought,  less  reverence  for  law  than  most  Americans 
have  ;  or  once  had.  Those  who  have  studied  his  seven 
years'  Presidency  will  judge  whether  the  impression 
derived  from  his  Governorship  was  right  or  wrong. 

It  was  my  business  during  five  of  those  years  to 
follow  him  step  by  step  and  to  compose  a  daily  history 
of  his  administration  for  The  Times.  I  saw  him  often. 
Sometimes  he  sent  for  me.  Sometimes  I  asked  for  an 
audience.  He  talked,  as  a  rule,  freely  ;  not  always  for 
publication.  He  meant  to  hold  the  balance  even  as 
between  all  journalists  and  all  the  papers  they  repre- 
sented.   I  rather  imagine  that  if  ever  by  inadvertence 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        347 

he  did  not,  he  was  sharply  reminded  of  it.  If — it  can 
only  have  been  seldom — The  Times  published  a  piece 
of  news  exclusively,  he  or  Mr.  Loeb,  his  secretary, 
would  be  asked  why  favour  should  be  shown  to  an 
English  paper,  or  to  me.  I  do  not  think  it  ever  was 
shown  intentionally.  The  President  knew,  of  course, 
that  any  such  news  would  be  re-cabled  to  America 
and  he  had  no  wish  to  rouse  needless  jealousies.  What- 
ever kindly  feeling  he  might  have  for  me  his  instinctive 
preference  would  be  for  an  American  rather  than  for 
an  English  journal. 

His  Americanism  was  a  prevailing,  continuous,  over- 
mastering passion.  He  was  American  all  the  time  ; 
and  perhaps  quand  meme.  Whether  England  then 
came  next,  longo  ititervallo,  after  America,  I  should 
doubt.  During  the  Boer  War  his  sympathies  appeared 
to  be  with  the  Boers.  Dutch  blood  flowed  in  his  veins, 
not  a  drop  of  English,  as  he  himself  often  said.  He 
took  pains  to  be  civil,  and  something  more  than  civil, 
to  the  Irish  enemies  of  England.  There  came  a  change, 
but  he  does  not  seem  to  have  been  one  of  those 
Americans  who  in  1898  were  convinced  by  England's 
resistance  to  European  intervention  in  behalf  of  Spain 
that  England  was  really  our  friend  and  not  the  enemy 
held  up  to  execration  in  America's  schoolbooks  and  in 
Senator  Lodge's  biographies.  'Possibly  it  was  not  till 
Mr.  Hay's  farseeing  diplomacy  brought  the  United 
States  into  the  circle  of  world-powers  that  President 
Roosevelt  perceived  clearly  why  co-operation  between 
England  and  the  United  States  was  for  the  interest  of 
both  ;   and  for  ours  not  less  than  hers.' 

Next  after  Mr.  Hay,  it  was  perhaps  Lord  Paunce- 
fote  whose  influence  on  the  President  led  him  gently 
to  an  attitude  of  benevolence  toward  the  Mother 
Country.     He  accepted  Lord  Pauncefote  as  a  type. 


348       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

The  British  Ambassador  had  a  directness  of  method 
and  a  transparent  honest  sincerity  in  all  his  dealings 
which  profoundly  impressed  the  President.  He  knew 
that  when  Lord  Pauncefote  said  a  thing  it  was  so,  and 
that  in  all  Anglo-American  issues  the  Ambassador's 
voice  was  the  voice  of  England.  Therefore  it  was  that 
the  German  cabal  in  1902  against  Lord  Pauncefote 
left  the  President  cold  ;  or,  rather,  to  speak  more 
truly,  impelled  him  to  reject  the  Berlin  story  and  to 
make  it  the  occasion  for  a  noble  tribute  to  Lord  Paunce- 
fote and  a  complete  public  recognition  of  his  friend- 
ship for  America.  He  expressed  it  to  me.  It  was  not 
asked  for,  and  it  was  almost  the  only  occasion  on  which 
the  President  allowed  himself  to  be  quoted  at  first 
hand.  "  You  may  say  I  said  it,  but  not  that  I  said  it 
to  you." 

With  all  due  reserve  in  great  matters  and  with 
strict  precaution  President  Roosevelt,  like  Governor 
Roosevelt  before  him,  was  ever  ready  to  take  the  Press 
into  his  confidence  when  he  could.  The  Press  owed 
him  much,  and  he  owed  much  to  the  Press.  He  made 
use  of  the  Press  ;  a  most  skilful  and  legitimate  use  ; 
and  not  of  the  Press  only.    He  said  to  me  once  : 

"  You  think  I  am  impulsive  and  perhaps  I  am. 
But  I  will  tell  you  one  thing.  Never  yet  have  I  entered 
upon  any  great  policy  till  I  was  satisfied  I  had  behind 
me  a  great  body  of  public  opinion." 

Some  of  this  evidence  of  public  opinion  he  must 
have  derived  from  the  Press,  and  from  representatives 
of  the  Press.  He  could,  and  did,  put  questions  as  well 
as  answer  them.  He  held  that  a  journalist  who  knew 
his  business  must  know  what  was  thought  and  said  in 
his  own  constituency.  From  some  other  and  not  less 
useful  sources  of  information  he  deliberately  cut  him- 
self off.     He  set  the  business  world  against  him  ;    and 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        349 

the  big  men  of  finance  in  New  York  and  elsewhere 
had  no  reason  for  giving  him  help  or  expert  counsel 
except  where  some  great  public  interest  was  concerned. 
In  the  year  of  the  crisis  and  shortly  before  the  climax 
of  it,  I  was  for  six  weeks  in  and  about  New  York.  I 
met  a  great  many  people,  some  of  them  among  the 
most  important  in  the  world  of  finance  and  business. 
Neither  from  any  one  of  them  nor  from  any  other 
human  being  did  I  at  that  time  hear  one  good  word 
said  for  the  President.  He  had  alienated  the  business 
world.  He  was  hated.  They  thought  him  a  menace 
to  peace  and  prosperity.  Yet  somehow  or  other  the 
President  knew  what  was  going  on  in  those  upper 
regions.  I  should  think  no  President  was  ever  better 
served  ;  and  surely  no  President  was  ever  more  adroit 
in  tapping  the  sources  of  opinion.  He  had  his  own 
standard  of  values.     At  one  critical  moment  he  said  : 

"  I  have  means  of  knowing  that  the  thirteen  Bishops 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  are  with  me. 
That  being  so,  I  don't  care  who  is  against  me." 

He  liked  to  declare  himself  in  that  large  way,  but 
of  course  he  did  care  very  much  who  was  against  him. 
What  he  meant  was  that  the  thirteen  Bishops  were 
representative  ;  that  they  did  not  divorce  religion 
from  politics  ;  that  their  authority  over  their  millions 
of  co-rcligionists  was  great,  and  that  they  spoke  for 
these  millions  as  well  as  for  themselves. 

That  sense  of  "  fun  "  which  came  out  in  the  Police 
Commissioner  was  not  always  repressed  in  the  Presi- 
dent. As  I  sat  with  him  in  his  private  room  we  saw 
through  the  open  door  into  the  Cabinet  chamber  two 
men  enter. 

"  Do  you  know  these  men  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  They  are  men  in  whom  America  is  just  now  much 


350       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

interested  ;  Reynolds  and  his  colleague  whom  I  sent 
to  Chicago  to  inquire  into  the  stockyards  and  slaughter- 
houses. Part  of  their  report,  enough  for  my  pur- 
pose, has  been  sent  to  Congress  and  no  doubt  you 
have  read  it.  The  rest  is  too  awful  to  publish.  You 
would  like  to  see  it,  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  never  will." 

Often  enough  the  surprise  in  which  he  delighted 
came  in  a  different  way.  During  a  crisis  which  affected 
England  as  well  as  the  United  States  he  sent  for  me 
and  began  : 

"  I  am  going  to  talk  to  you  in  confidence  ;  not  a 
word  for  print,  I  think  it  desirable  you  should  know 
privately  what  the  view  of  the  Government  is  and 
what,  in  certain  contingencies,  I  intend  to  do." 

His  statement  lasted  for  twenty  minutes.  He  talked 
with  that  lucidity  and  force  which  came  to  him  when 
he  dealt  with  great  affairs.  Now  and  then  I  asked  a 
question  which  he  answered  without  reserve.  When 
he  had  finished  I  said  : 

"  I,  of  course,  understand  that  what  you  have  told 
me  is  not  to  be  repeated.  But  may  I  say  that  from  a 
talk  I  have  had  with  a  high  official  authority  I  draw 
such  and  such  conclusions  ?  " 

The  lips  parted  over  the  white  teeth,  the  eyes 
gleamed  behind  the  glasses,  and  the  President  answered: 

"  That  is  why  I  sent  for  you." 

I  was  to  take  the  responsibility  and  not  he.  It 
was  my  business  to  take  it,  and  I  did.  If  my  con- 
clusions had  been  challenged  I  had  all  the  evidence 
to  support  them  and  could  have  used  none  of  it. 
But  that  is  one  of  the  risks  which  a  journalist  has  to 
accept.  In  fact,  there  was  no  challenge  from  any 
quarter    worth    noticing,    and    ^he    Times    dispatch 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        351 

had,  I  think,  the  effect  the  President  meant  it  to 
have. 

One  other  detached  and  I  hope  illustrative  anecdote. 

When  I  came  back  from  Ottawa  with  Sir  Wilfrid 
Laurier's  authority  to  repeat  to  Mr.  Hay  and  the 
President  what  he  had  said  to  me  about  Alaska,  I 
brought  with  me  a  long  memorandum  which  both  the 
Secretary  of  State  and  the  President  read.  It  con- 
tained the  substance  of  several  conversations  and  a 
statement  of  what  I  believed  Sir  Wilfrid  ready  to  do. 
I  have  always  thought  that  if  the  President  had  then 
had  a  free  hand,  he  would  have  been  disposed  to  avail 
himself  of  this  knowledge  of  what  was  in  Sir  Wil- 
frid's mind,  as  a  basis  for  negotiations.  But  there 
stood  the  Senate,  in  its  most  implacable  mood,  and 
neither  Mr.  Hay  nor  the  President  thought  the  mo- 
ment propitious  for  approaching  that  august  body 
with  any  fresh  proposals.  I  was  given  to  understand 
that,  much  as  the  Canadian  Prime  Minister's  desire  to 
close  the  controversy  was  appreciated,  no  step  could 
then  be  taken.  During  a  long  audience  I  pressed  it  as 
much  as  I  thought  permissible,  and  finally  said  to  the 
President  I  was  still  unwilling  to  take  No  for  an  answer. 
I  felt  that  he  was  as  unwilling  to  give  it  as  I  was  to 
take  it.    He  answered  : 

"  Well,  you  are  coming  here  this  evening  and  I 
will  consider  the  whole  question  meantime.  Stay 
on  after  the  others  arc  gone  and  we  will  have  a 
final  talk." 

Mrs.  Roosevelt  had  a  reception  after  the  dinner  and 
it  was  past  midnight  before  her  guests  departed.  Then 
Mr.  Roosevelt  and  I  tramped  up  and  down  the  long 
passage  between  the  East  Room  and  the  Conservatory 
till  half-past  one.    At  the  end  the  President  said  : 

"  I  am  very  sorry  but  it  must  be  No." 


352       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

"  Then  I  can  only  say  good  night.  I  oughtn't  to 
have  kept  you  so  late." 

"  Late  ?  You  think  I  am  going  to  bed  ?  I  have 
a  hundred  and  sixty  pension  bills  to  read  before  I 
turn  in." 

"  Why  not  veto  them  all  unread  ?  " 

"  That's  easy  for  you  to  say  but  did  you  ever  hear 
of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  ?  " 

Upon  which  we  parted.  Politics  had  to  come  in. 
They  often  had.  They  were  never  very  far  from  the 
President's  mind.  An  old  and  loyal  friend  of  his  said 
to  me  : 

"  No  man's  sense  of  public  duty  is  higher  than  the 
President's  but  he  is  the  '  slickest  '  politician  of  them 
all.  He  can  give  points  to  Piatt  or  anybody  else.  And 
yet  he  somehow  manages  to  put  duty  first  and  politics 
afterward." 

An  appreciation  which  I  hope  Mr.  Roosevelt  will 
himself  appreciate. 


Ill 


AS    PRESIDENT    IN    RELATION    TO    FOREIGN    AFFAIRS 

The  confidence,  the  deserved  confidence,  President 
Roosevelt  had  in  Mr.  Hay  led  him  to  give  his  Secretary 
of  State  a  free  hand  in  most  matters  which  the  De- 
partment of  State  had  to  deal  with.  He  knew  well 
enough  that  Mr.  Hay  had  relinquished  the  Embassy 
in  London  and  become  Foreign  Minister  against  his 
own  wish  upon  the  summons  of  President  McKinley. 
He  knew  that  Mr.  Hay  would  have  preferred,  for  per- 
sonal reasons,  to  leave  the  Department  upon  the  death 
of  Mr.  McKinley.  He  knew  that  in  this  matter,  as  in 
others,   a   sense   of   public   duty   prevailed   with   Mr. 


MR.   THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        353 

Hay  ;  and  a  man  with  an  overruling  sense  of  public 
duty  was  the  kind  of  public  servant  Mr.  Roosevelt  was 
always  looking  for.  He  knew  also  that  Mr.  Hay's 
experience  as  Ambassador  abroad  and  as  Assistant 
Secretary  of  State  at  home  had  given  him  the  training 
and  experience  which  neither  natural  abilities  nor 
missions  from  on  high  could  replace.  In  this  case, 
therefore,  the  President  acted,  so  far  as  it  was  in  him 
to  act,  on  the  maxim  to  choose  the  best  man,  hold 
him  responsible,  and  judge  him  by  results.  As  the 
results  were,  among  others,  to  give  the  United  States  a 
place  in  world  politics  and  an  opportunity  of  exercising 
the  kind  of  missionary  influence  dear  to  the  President, 
he  may  be  supposed  to  have  been  content,  and  more 
than  content,  with  these  results. 

When,  therefore,  the  President  and  the  Secretary 
were  agreed  on  a  point  of  foreign  affairs  vital  to  the 
national  welfare  and  to  peace,  as  in  the  Alaska  Boundary 
and  Sir  Wilfrid  Laurier's  proposal,  there  was  in  the 
minds  of  most  men  a  presumption  that  they  were  right. 
But  not  in  the  minds  of  the  Senate.  I  do  not  wish  to 
go  over  again  a  matter  on  which  I  have  written  much. 
In  what  I  said  of  Sir  Wilfrid  Laurier  in  these  Memories 
I  told  as  much  of  the  story  as  I  well  could.  I  refer  to 
it  once  more  only  to  add  that  after  the  midnight  talk 
with  the  President,  briefly  referred  to  in  a  previous 
letter,  I  came  away  convinced  that  President  Roose- 
velt saw  eye  to  eye  with  Mr.  Hay  and  both  with 
Sir  Wilfrid  Laurier.  The  Senate,  and  the  Senate  only, 
then  stood  in  the  way  of  a  favourable  settlement  of  that 
menacing  question.  It  is  well  to  keep  that  in  mind. 
For  once  more  to-day  the  Senate,  and  the  Senate 
only,*  stands  in  the  way  of  those  arbitration  treaties 
with    England    and    France    which    President    Taft 

*   But  now,  March,  191  2,  reinforced  by  Mr,  Roosevelt. 


354       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

framed  and  signed.  Nothing,  not  even  Mr.  Hay's 
diplomacy,  ever  did  so  much  to  give  the  United  States 
a  foremost  place  in  the  world's  diplomacy.  No 
President  ever  originated  a  scheme  of  peace  so  far- 
reaching  and  beneficent.  If  it  be  too  far-reaching, 
time  and  experience  will  set  that  right.  But  to  peace 
and  to  American  leadership  in  a  great  world-policy  the 
Senate  prefers  its  own  usurped  privilege,  its  own 
jealousy  of  constitutional  executive  authority,  and  the 
present  animosity  of  some  of  its  members  to  one  of 
the  greatest  of  Presidents. 

I  do  not  know  whether  Mr.  Roosevelt  has  thought 
of  writing  a  history  of  his  own  administration,  or  of 
those  policies  and  acts  which  made  it  memorable.  If 
I  were  a  publisher  I  would  never  leave  him  alone  till 
he  had  promised  to  do  it  ;  not  in  detail  but  broadly, 
and  therefore  briefly.  It  would  be  interesting  to  see 
if  he  could  be  brief,  and  whether,  if  he  were,  his 
written  style  might  not  gain  in  clarity  and  balance. 
It  would  be  still  more  interesting  if  he  should  condense 
into  a  chapter  his  relations  with  the  Senate  and  his 
judgment  on  that  policy  of  obstruction  and  treaty- 
wrecking  which  has  filled  the  American  mind  with 
distrust  of  its  patriotism. 

It  was  understood  at  the  time  that  one  reason  for 
the  appointment  of  Sir  Michael  Herbert  as  British 
Ambassador  in  succession  to  Lord  Pauncefote  was 
the  relation  of  friendship  existing  between  Sir  Michael 
and  the  President.  That  is  but  one  example  of  the 
weight  which  the  personal  wishes  of  a  President  may 
have  abroad  as  well  as  at  home.  I  don't  enlarge  on  it, 
for  I  hope  to  write  more  fully  at  another  time  con- 
cerning Sir  Michael  and  his  services  to  both  countries 
as  Ambassador.  It  is  true  that  a  European  Govern- 
ment always  considers  whether  a  candidate  for  a  high 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        355 

diplomatic  post  is  likely  to  be  agreeable  to  the  Govern- 
ment to  which  he  is  sent.  But  it  is  also  true  that  the 
question  seldom  turns  on  the  other  question  of 
personal  intimacy  between  the  Head  of  a  Govern- 
ment and  the  proposed  Ambassador  or  Minister.  Mr. 
Roosevelt's  personality  had  won  him  a  kind  of  prestige 
abroad  which  made  the  intimation  of  his  liking  for  a 
particular  man  a  powerful  factor  in  his  appointment. 
I  doubt  whether  any  similar  case  can  be  cited  from 
the  past.  But  I  am  quite  sure  that  were  any  of  the 
great  Embassies  now  to  fall  vacant  President  Taft 
would  be  informally  consulted  about  filling  it,  for 
President  Taft  has  succeeded  to  that  European  heritage 
of  fame  and  confidence  which  President  Roosevelt 
was  at  one  time  supposed  to  have  carried  into  retire- 
ment with  him. 

There  was,  I  suppose,  no  European  ruler  with  whom 
President  Roosevelt  stood  on  terms  of  such  close  in- 
timacy as  with  the  German  Emperor.  Down  to  the 
time  of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  progress  through  Europe  and 
visit  to  Potsdam,  the  two  had  never  met.  But  events 
had  brought  them  together.  They  corresponded  by 
cable  and  by  letter.  They  exchanged  gifts.  The 
German  Emperor  seems  to  have  misunderstood  the 
President  on  more  points  than  one.  It  was  partly 
because  of  the  supposed  German  sympathies  or  pre- 
possessions of  Mr.  Roosevelt  that  Prince  Henry  of 
Prussia  was  sent  to  the  United  States  on  that  mission 
of  which  the  political  purpose  was  at  first  denied  and 
then  admitted.  When  Prince  Henry  went  to  Wash- 
ington Mr.  Roosevelt  received  him  cordially.  They 
spent  much  time  together  ;  dined,  walked,  and  rode 
together.  The  papers  were  full  of  it.  I  imagine  the 
Prince  thought  he  made  a  certain  degree  of  progress 
with  his  mission  ;    which  was  nothing  less  than  to 


356       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

drive  a  wedge  between  England  and  the  United  States 
to  the  profit  o£  Germany.  I  was  in  Washington  not 
long  after  and  said  to  the  President  in  answer  to  a 
question  : 

"  Mr.  President,  it  seemed  that  all  through  your 
reception  of  Prince  Henry  you  meant  to  emphasize 
the  personal  side  of  your  relations  ;  as  if  there  had 
been  no  political  or  diplomatic  side  at  all." 

"  Ah,  you  noticed  that,  did  you  ?  " 

He  said  neither  yes  nor  no  but  I  hope  I  may  add 
that  the  expression  of  his  face  seemed  full  of  meaning. 
It  was  an  expression  of  assent.  He  meant,  indeed,  that 
his  personal  attitude  to  the  Prince  should  be  seen  of 
all  men.  He  knew  very  well  what  was  in  the  mind 
of  the  German  Emperor.  Later  the  President  was 
asked  : 

"  If  there  arose  between  Germany  and  the  United 
States  a  controversy,  how  much  would  the  mission  of 
Prince  Henry  affect  the  policy  of  your  Government 
touching  that  controversy  ?  " 

"  By  not  so  much  as  the  weight  of  my  little  finger," 
answered  the  President. 

The  phrase  "  my  Government  "  was  almost  as  often 
in  his  mouth  as  the  phrase  "  my  policy."  So  it  became 
a  custom  for  others  to  say  to  him,  "  your  Govern- 
ment." 

When  Baron  von  Holleben,  the  German  Am- 
bassador at  Washington,  went  home  on  leave  of 
absence  he  brought  back  with  him  an  account  of  the 
audience  granted  him  by  the  Emperor,  saying  in 
substance  : 

"  His  Imperial  Majesty  asked  me  many  questions 
about  the  President,  which  I  answered  as  freely  as  I 
thought  consistent  with  the  respect  due  both  to  the 
Emperor  and  the  President.     I  had  always  considered 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        357 

they  had  much  in  common,  personally  and  as  rulers. 
Of  course,  I  could  not  say  that  to  the  Emperor  but 
I  answered  his  questions  in  such  a  way  that  presently 
he  exclaimed  : 

"  '  Why,  Mr.  Roosevelt  must  in  some  respects  be 
very  much  like  me.'  " 

The  German  Ambassador  gave  his  account  of  this 
incident  to  the  President,  and  the  President  in  turn 
repeated  it  to  various  persons.  All  their  narratives 
agreed  in  substance,  so  the  HoUeben  story  may  be 
accepted  as  true.  He  was  not  the  man  to  have  in- 
vented it  ;  nor  had  he  in  any  high  degree  the  gift  of 
imagination  ;  nor  would  he  risk  incurring  his  master's 
wrath  by  an  inaccurate  version  of  a  story  sure  to  find 
its  way  back  to  Berlin  and  to  Potsdam.  Mr.  Roose- 
velt's admiration  for  the  Kaiser  was  such  that  he  cannot 
have  taken  his  friend's  comparison  amiss. 

There  were,  however,  critics  who  held  and  ex- 
pressed a  different  view.  To  establish  a  likeness  of 
character  between  the  Kaiser  and  the  President  was, 
if  you  listened  to  them,  to  establish  a  likeness  of  con- 
duct. It  helped  to  explain  to  their  minds  Mr.  Roose- 
velt's preference  for  arbitrary  methods.  The  Kaiser, 
as  we  all  know,  is  the  ruling  force  in  Germany,  and 
still  more  is  he,  as  King,  the  ruling  force  in  Prussia. 
Neither  the  Reichstag  nor  the  Landtag  is  a  good  ex- 
ample of  what  we  understand  and  intend  by  repre- 
sentative government.  The  efficient  principle,  alike  in 
the  Empire  and  in  the  Kingdom,  is  not  Parliamentary 
but  Kingly.  And  there  were  at  that  time  many  men 
in  both  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives  who 
thought  they  discovered  in  Mr.  Roosevelt  a  disposition 
to  put  his  own  convictions  of  right  above  the  con- 
sidered convictions  of  the  American  people  expressed 
in  statutory  law.    Mr.  Roosevelt,  according  to  a  cable 


358       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

dispatch  from  Washington  to  the  London  papers,  said 
to  the  investigating  committee  which,  during  the 
summer  of  191 1,  inquired  into  his  action  in  promoting 
or  permitting  in  1908  the  sale  of  the  Tennessee  Coal 
and  Iron  Company  : 

"  What  I  did  was  absolutely  wise  and  absolutely 
right." 

His  critics  seem  to  think  he  violated,  or  to  say  the 
least  disregarded  and  enabled  others  to  disregard,  the 
law.  I  have  heard  that  opinion  expressed  in  England 
where  the  phrase  "  dispensing  power  "  has  a  sinister 
historical  significance.  And  I  have  heard  Newman 
quoted  as  saying,  before  he  went  to  Rome  : 

"  The  Pope's  claim  to  infallibility  implies  an  ad- 
ditional claim.  He  must  not  only  be  infallible  but 
infallibly  certain  he  is  infallible." 

That  Pope  and  Kaiser  and  President  were  all  acting 
from  high  motives  and  from  a  profound  belief  that  they 
were  doing  good  in  the  world  is  in  each  case  equally 
evident. 

Holding  the  views  he  did,  it  is  no  matter  for  wonder 
that  the  President  should  sometimes  pay  scant  atten- 
tion to  etiquette  in  his  dealings  with  the  Ambassadors 
in  Washington.     One  of  them  said  : 

"  Your  President  thinks  nothing  of  sending  for  us 
at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night.  It  is  not  usual  that 
the  personal  representative  of  a  Sovereign  should  be 
'  sent  for,'  but  we  waive  that  and  go.  Once  at  the 
White  House  he  says  to  us  whatever  comes  into  his 
head.  We  are  lectured,  chided  for  our  own  faults  or 
those  of  our  Governments,  told  to  behave  better  in 
future,  and  so  dismissed.  We  do  not  take  offence.  We 
recognize  the  good  intentions  of  the  President.  We 
know  that  he  cannot  always  control  his  impulses  or 
confine  his  apostolic  mission  to  purely  domestic  affairs. 


MR.    THEODORE   ROOSEVELT        359 

But  we  do  not  think  it  is  a  good  way  of  doing  business 
nor  one  that  tends  to  smooth  away  diplomatic  differ- 
ences." 

But  that  was  not  the  Hmit  of  the  President's 
diplomatic  activities.  It  was  no  secret  in  Washington 
that  the  recall  of  Sir  Mortimer  Durand,  British  Am- 
bassador from  1903  to  1906,  was  due,  directly  or  in- 
directly, to  the  President's  dislike  of  him  and  to  his 
expressed  opinion  that  Sir  Mortimer  "  was  not  a  man 
with  whom  you  could  do  business."  There  were 
other  complaints  which  need  not  be  dwelt  on.  Yet 
Sir  Mortimer  had  had  a  distinguished  career  in  India 
where  he  had  been  Foreign  Secretary  for  ten  years  ; 
had  been  Minister  to  Persia  for  six  years  and  Am- 
bassador to  Spain  for  three  years.  When  his  proposed 
appointment  to  Washington  had  been  made  known,  it 
was  welcomed  by  the  President.  He  was  a  very  loyal, 
able,  honourable  man.  It  may  be  true  that  his  abilities 
were  not  of  the  kind  best  suited  to  Washington  ; 
always  a  difficult  post.  It  is  certainly  true  that  the 
Ambassador  and  the  President  were  not  sympathetic 
to  each  other.  Again  I  am  sure  the  President  thought 
himself  "  absolutely  wise  and  absolutely  right,"  and 
had  reason  for  thinking  that  Anglo-American  interests 
and  a  general  good  understanding  between  England 
and  the  United  States  would  thrive  better  with 
another  tenant  for  the  Embassy  in  Connecticut 
Avenue.  If  a  fine  career  had  to  be  ruined  for  reasons 
of  State,  or  from  a  strain  of  impatience  in  the 
President,  it  does  not  follow  that  any  censure  need 
be  pronounced  on  Sir  Mortimer  Durand. 


36o       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 


IV 


HIS  INTERVENTION   BETWEEN  RUSSIA  AND  JAPAN 

Much  has  been  said  about  President  Roosevelt's 
intervention  in  the  Russo-Japanese  War  and  his  success 
in  securing  an  agreement  between  Russia  and  Japan 
at  Portsmouth.  For  his  untiring  efforts  and  complete 
devotion  to  the  cause  of  peace  no  praise  could  be  too 
high  ;  nor  for  his  ingenuity  and  energy  in  bringing 
the  two  Powers  together  in  Conference.  Whether  a 
Treaty  of  Peace  might  not  have  been  made  elsewhere 
and  on  the  same  or  similar  terms,  without  his  inter- 
vention, is  perhaps  an  unprofitable  subject  of  specula- 
tion. I  was  in  Washington  when  he  entered  upon  his 
campaign  of  persuasion.  The  President's  first  notion 
was  to  receive  the  Plenipotentiaries  of  the  two  Powers 
in  Washington  and  let  them  negotiate  there.  When 
it  was  suggested  to  him  that  Washington  in  August 
could  hardly  be  depended  on  for  the  degree  of  cool- 
ness desirable  in  a  difficult  discussion,  he  seemed 
surprised  and  said  : 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  don't  care  whether 
I  have  to  do  my  work  on  the  Congo  or  at  the  North 
Pole." 

He  did,  however,  admit  that  others  might  be  less 
careless  about  climate  than  he  was,  and  that  the 
humidity  and  heat  together  might  make  Washington 
an  unsuitable  place  of  meeting.  Why  Portsmouth 
was  chosen  I  never  knew.  It  had  a  variable  climate 
and  was  often  very  hot  and  better  suited  for  the 
mosquitoes,  which  held  a  conference  of  their  own 
in  great  numbers,  than  for  diplomatists.  It  was 
uncomfortable  in  many  ways  and  the  distance  from 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        361 

the  hall  where  the  Japanese  and  Russians  met  to  the 
hotel  made  the  difficult  work  o£  the  journalists  more 
difficult  still.  Few  places  combined  so  many  dis- 
advantages. Of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty 
journalists  who  were  there  for  the  Conference,  many 
were  foreigners ;  Russian,  Japanese,  English,  French, 
German,  and  so  on.  I  am  not  sure  whether  the 
President,  who  remained,  not  in  Washington  but  at 
Oyster  Bay,  ought  to  be  reckoned  a  journalist  or  not. 
He  certainly  supplies  the  Press  of  the  world  with  a 
great  deal  of  copy. 

Having  been  ordered  from  England,  whither  I  had 
gone  for  a  holiday,  to  Portsmouth,  I  crossed  the 
Atlantic  with  an  English  colleague  on  a  North  German 
Lloyd  ship,  on  which  Count  Witte,  the  head  of  the 
Russian  Embassy,  was  a  passenger.  Then  and  at 
Portsmouth  and  on  the  return  voyage  I  saw  much 
of  Count  Witte,  and  shall  have  something  to  say  of 
him  presently.  My  colleague  was  Sir  Donald  Mac- 
kenzie Wallace,  formerly  Foreign  Editor  of  The  Times. 
I  wrote  from  New  York  to  the  President,  asking 
leave  to  bring  Sir  Donald  to  see  him,  and  the  President 
named  a  day.  The  President's  Secretary,  Mr.  Loeb, 
who  has  since  been  Collector  of  the  Port  of  New  York 
with  a  flaming  sword  in  his  hand,  telegraphed  us  to 
come  by  a  morning  train  to  Oyster  Bay  and  present 
ourselves  at  3.30  p.m.  at  Sagamore  Hill.  As  this 
involved  a  long  wait  in  the  village  I  asked  whether  we 
might  not  be  received  at  four  o'clock,  for  which  there 
was  a  convenient  train.  But  Mr.  Loeb  was  inflexible, 
and  even  when  I  suggested  to  him  that  an  Englishman 
of  some  distinction  might  not  like  to  be  kept  waiting 
for  hours  in  a  little  Long  Island  town,  sent  a  "  No  " 
more  peremptory  than  before.  Even  as  Secretary 
he  had  his  flaming  sword  ready  for  all  comers. 


362       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

I  knew  that  Count  Witte  was  to  lunch  with  the 
President  that  day,  and  that  his  audience  was  likely  to 
last  till  later  than  half-past  three.  Mr.  Loeb  knew  it 
too.  The  President,  I  assume,  knew  nothing  of  his 
Secretary's  arbitrary  ways.  We  had,  at  any  rate, 
to  choose  between  doing  as  we  were  told  by  Mr.  Loeb 
and  giving  up  the  visit ;  and  though  Wallace  and  I 
both  thought  we  were  being  rather  rudely  treated, 
we  went.  After  some  hours  in  the  village  we  drove  to 
Sagamore  Hill,  arrived  at  3.30,  waited  till  4.30,  saw 
Count  Witte  depart,  and  were  admitted.  Wallace, 
long  a  courtier  and  regarding  the  customs  of  royalty 
as  holding  good  with  the  President,  had  insisted  we 
should  go  in  frock-coats  and  tall  hats,  and  we  did, 
much  to  the  entertainment  of  the  village.  Count  Witte 
was  content  with  the  travelHng  suit  he  had  worn 
on  the  steamship  and  a  battered  shapeless  straw  hat. 
Autre  fays,  autres  mceurs. 

Since  my  former  visit  to  Oyster  Bay  the  house  had 
been  enlarged,  and  the  President  now  occupied  as  his 
reception-room  a  large  library-parlour  on  the  ground 
floor.  He  talked  to  us  rather  freely  about  the  Con- 
ference but  said  little  that  can  be  quoted  even  now. 
To  Sir  Donald  he  was  cordial  enough  to  make  it  plain 
he  knew  nothing  about  Mr.  Loeb's  discourtesies, 
and  the  Englishman  brought  away  an  agreeable  im- 
pression of  the  President.  To  us,  as  to  others,  he  said 
that  when  Japan  and  Russia  had  agreed  to  meet  at 
Porstmouth  he  considered  his  work  done.  He  had  no 
intention  of  taking  part  in  the  proceedings — "  no  more 
to  do  with  them  than  you  have,  nor  so  much."  He 
hoped  for  the  best  but  was  not  over-confident. 

"  I  have  brought  them  to  a  cool  spring.  It  remains 
to  be  seen  whether  they  will  drink  of  it  or  not." 

We  all  know  that  he  changed  his  mind  later  and 


MR.   THEODORE   ROOSEVELT        363 

that  his  intervention  at  Portsmouth,  at  Tokio,  and 
at  St.  Petersburg  was  frequent,  energetic,  and  in  a 
sense  successful.  As  I  am  not  writing  a  history  of 
the  Conference  I  confine  myself  here  to  the  Presi- 
dent's share  in  the  Portsmouth  proceedings.  Pre- 
serving an  appearance  of  impartiality  and  being,  so 
far  as  the  machinery  of  the  Conference  was  concerned, 
really  impartial  in  the  beginning,  he  found  himself, 
as  he  thought,  compelled  by  circumstances  unforeseen 
and  undesired  to  take  a  hand  in  the  game.  He  was, 
as  both  Japanese  and  Russians  knew,  Japanese  in  his 
sympathies.  When  Count  Komura,  the  chief  of  the 
Japanese  Plenipotentiaries,  laid  upon  the  table  his 
demand  upon  Russia  for  a  war  indemnity  of 
$600,000,000,  the  President  thought  it  ought  to 
be  paid.  For  the  sake  of  clearness  I  omit  all  reference 
to  other  demands.  It  was  upon  this  that  the  success 
or  failure  of  the  Conference  depended. 

When  Russia  refused  to  pay  this  enormous  sum 
the  President  at  first  took  the  refusal  as  a  piece  of 
diplomacy.  He  thought  Russia  was  holding  out  for 
better  terms.  He  little  guessed  that  Russia's  answer  to 
Japan's  demand  had  been  settled  before  Count  Witte 
left  St.  Petersburg.  He  did  not  know — how  could  he  ? 
— that  Count  Witte  had  accepted  his  appointment 
as  Plenipotentiary  only  on  the  condition  that  in  no 
circumstances  should  he  be  required  to  assent  to  an 
indemnity.  He  thought  it  possible  to  bring  pressure 
on  Count  Witte  and  his  colleagues.  He  believed 
Japan  would  persist,  as  he  thought  she  had  a  right 
to  persist,  in  the  exaction  of  these  $600,000,000,  and 
that  if  they  were  not  paid  the  Conference  would 
break  up  and  the  war  be  renewed. 

Hence  his  memorable  attempt  to  induce  the 
Emperor  of  Russia  to  give  way.     In  his  zeal  the  Presi- 


364       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

dent  had  long  since  forgotten  that  he  was  not  going  to 
try  to  make  the  two  Powers  drink  of  the  cool  spring 
near  which  he  had  brought  them.  He  kept  the  wires 
between  Oyster  Bay  and  Portsmouth  hot,  and  presently 
the  cable  to  St.  Petersburg  was  heated  seven  times 
hotter.  He  instructed  "  his  "  Ambassador,  Mr.  Meyer, 
to  ask  an  audience  of  the  Emperor  and  to  urge  upon 
him  that  he  should  surrender  to  this  Japanese  demand. 
Mr.  Meyer  was  to  lay  before  the  Emperor  the  reasons 
of  the  President  for  his  yielding.  The  Emperor 
received  the  President's  Ambassador,  listened  to  him, 
and  finally  told  him  that  a  formal  answer  would  be 
sent  him  by  the  Foreign  Office.  It  came  as  a  docu- 
ment of  live  hundred  words  to  go  by  cable,  and  cabled 
it  was  to  Oyster  Bay.  The  five  hundred  words  could 
all  be  condensed  into  a  monosyllable  :    "  No." 

The  President,  naturally,  was  dissatisfied.  He 
directed  his  Ambassador  to  see  the  Emperor  again 
and  renew  his  appeal.  Mr.  Meyer  did  as  he  was  told 
and  again  the  answer,  much  briefer  than  at  first, 
was  a  refusal.  The  President — it  is  all  but  incredible 
yet  true — sent  Mr.  Meyer  a  third  time  to  the  Emperor, 
and  a  third  time  the  refusal  was  given  ;  this  third 
time  with  a  peremptory  brevity  which  even  the 
President  understood  to  be  final.  When  Count  Witte 
described  to  me  what  had  taken  place,  he  added  : 

"  I  do  not  think  His  Imperial  Majesty,  my  Master, 
is  in  the  habit  of  being  asked  three  times  whether  he 
means  what  he  says." 

By  this  time  the  President  was  alarmed,  and  with 
good  reason.  A  great  change  had  occurred.  When  the 
two  Embassies  arrived  in  the  United  States,  public 
opinion,  beyond  all  doubt,  was  on  the  side  of  Japan. 
Before  a  fortnight  had  passed  it  veered  about  and 
became   largely   Russian.      I   will   explain   why  later. 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        365 

Now  it  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  Count  Witte 
had  shown  himself  open-minded  to  the  Press  and  had 
stated  to  the  American  journalists  day  by  day  the 
Russian  case  with  consummate  skill.  The  Japanese 
held  aloof.  Count  Komura  saw  no  journalist.  Baron 
Takahira,  having  been  Minister  at  Washington  and 
better  understanding  American  ways,  was  nevertheless 
forced  to  be  silent.  So  with  the  Russian  arguments 
and  facts  daily  spread  before  them  and  nothing  or 
almost  nothing  from  Japan,  the  American  people 
were  naturally  and  inevitably  influenced  by  what  they 
read  ;  and  began  to  believe  that  the  Russians  must  be 
in  the  right. 

Now  no  man  ever  read  more  quickly  and  surely 
the  minds  of  the  American  people  than  did  Mr. 
Roosevelt.  He  saw  what  was  happening.  He  became 
anxious  about  his  Conference ;  for  his  Conference  it 
was.  And  when  once  he  became  convinced  that 
Russia  would  never  pay  the  $600,000,000  he  executed 
a  complete  volte-face  and  told  the  astonished  Japanese 
whose  demand  he  had  vigorously  supported  that  the 
demand  must  be  withdrawn.  He  cabled  Tokio  as  he 
had  cabled  St.  Petersburg,  only  in  an  opposite  sense. 
He  warned  Tokio  and  the  Japanese  Plenipotentiaries 
alike  that  they  had  alienated  in  a  great  measure  the 
goodwill  of  the  American  nation,  and  that  the  only 
way  to  recover  it  was  to  renounce  their  claim  for  an 
indemnity.  He  told  them  of  his  own  knowledge 
that  whether  they  renounced  it  or  not  they  never 
could  get  the  money,  for  Russia  never  would  pay  it. 
And  he  prevailed.  The  Japanese  withdrew  their 
demand,  peace  was  made,  the  President's  Conference, 
which  more  than  once  had  been  on  the  point  of  break- 
ing up,  came  to  an  agreement,  and  the  world  breathed 
freely  again. 


366       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

With    what    feelings    towards    Mr.    Roosevelt    the 
Japanese  departed  from  Portsmouth  I  dare  not  con- 
jecture.    He  had  forced  them  to  act  wisely,  and  they 
probably  knew  that  their  decision  was  wise  if  only 
because  it  was  inevitable.     But  no  man  likes  to  be 
forced  to  be  wise.     The  Japanese,  if  the  truth  may 
be  told,  had  arrived  at  Portsmouth  in  an  arrogant 
mood.     They  left  it  in  a  chastened  mood.     Victors 
in  a  great  war,  they  had  not  been  victors  in  the  Con- 
ference.     They   had   been    outgeneralled   by   Count 
Witte.    They  had  been  forced  to  abandon  their  claim 
for  a  war  indemnity ;  money  which  they  had  regarded 
as  already  in  their  pockets.    Their  prestige  had  suffered 
a    cruel    blow.      Their    popularity    in    America    was 
grievously    impaired.      For    all    this    they    held    the 
President  responsible.     For  some  part  of  it  he  un- 
doubtedly was  responsible.    We  remain  on  good  terms 
with  Japan  ;   for  reasons  of  self-interest  on  both  sides. 
But  if  you  ask  American  travellers  whether  Americans 
are  popular  in  Tokio  and  throughout  Japan,  you  may 
be  told  that  the  Japanese  are  anything  but  grateful 
for  the  part  we  played  at  Portsmouth,  and  that  they 
are  not  likely  soon    to   forget  what   share  President 
Roosevelt  had  in  their  humiliation. 


HIS    INTERVENTION    BETWEEN    ENGLAND    AND    EGYPT 

As  Mr.  Roosevelt  seems  still  *  inclined  to  emerge  at 
intervals  from  his  well-earned  retirement,  it  may  not 
be  too  late  to  say  yet  another  word  about  this  eminent 
ex-President.  From  no  account  of  him  ought  the  im- 
pression he  made  on  European  opinion,  and  especially 

*   November,  191 1. 


MR.    THEODORE   ROOSEVELT        367 

on  English  opinion,  to  be  omitted.  Many  narratives 
went  by  cable.  I  shall  try  to  confine  myself  to  memories 
not  likely  to  have  reached  America  in  that  way. 

I  will  come  at  once  to  the  critical  moment  when 
Mr.  Roosevelt  thought  it  his  duty  to  admonish  the 
English  Government  and  people  concerning  their 
duty  to  Egypt,  and  to  England  in  Egypt.  He  had 
been  in  Egypt,  on  his  return  from  his  adventures  as 
naturalist  to  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  long  enough 
to  form  a  just  conception  of  the  position  of  the 
English  and  of  the  changes,  in  administrative  efficiency 
if  not  in  policy,  which  had  taken  place  since  Lord  Cromer 
had  retired  and  Sir  Eldon  Gorst  had  been  in  nominal 
command.  I  say  nominal  because  it  seems  clear  that 
the  relaxation  of  English  authority  under  Sir  Eldon 
Gorst  was  the  direct  result  of  instructions  from  the 
home  Government  ;  a  Government  saturated  with 
Radical  notions  of  the  Rights  of  Man,  notions  to  be 
put  in  force  regardless  of  race,  regardless  of  political 
conditions,  regardless  of  expediency,  regardless  of 
Imperial  interests  and  necessities.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
himself  holds,  or  has  held,  views  of  human  brother- 
hood not  less  visionary  than  those  for  some  time  past 
prevailing  at  Westminster.  But  he  did,  at  any  rate, 
consider  that  the  business  of  a  Government  was  to 
govern,  and  no  President  ever  acted  on  that  belief 
with  more  energy  than  President  Roosevelt  did.  And 
he  saw  clearly  that  in  Egypt  the  Government  was 
ceasing  to  govern,  and  that  Radical  theories  were 
endangering  the  supremacy  and  the  beneficent  in- 
fluence of  England  in  Egypt.  Seeing  this,  and  having 
formed  a  strong  opinion  about  it,  he  could  not,  I 
suppose,  help  expressing  it  ;  and  he  did  express  it  at 
the  Guildhall  in  a  way  which  astonished  Englishmen. 
He  said  to  them,  almost  in  so  many  words  : 


368       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

"  You  must  either  govern  Egypt  or  get  out." 

He  was  at  that  moment  the  guest  of  England  or, 
if  not  strictly  of  England,  of  the  City  of  London 
where  he  was  speaking.  No  doubt  he  knew  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  a  social  code  which  forbids  a  guest 
to  undertake  to  regulate  the  affairs  of  his  host's 
household.  But  what  are  social  codes  to  a  missionary 
spirit  ?  What  obligations  of  courtesy  are  binding 
on  the  vicegerent  of  the  Almighty  ?  •  Even  an  Old 
Testament  or  a  New  Testament  evangelist  would 
disregard  them,  much  more  an  American  ex-President 
with  a  message  from  on  high.  It  was  not  with  him  a 
matter  of  choice.    He  had  to  speak,  and  speak  he  did. 

In  a  way  it  was  a  useful  deliverance.  It  woke  up 
England,  always  disposed  to  be  sluggish  in  far-off 
Imperial  affairs  till  a  cannon-shot  breaks  her  slumbers. 
It  found  an  echo  in  that  great  body  of  convinced 
but  for  the  most  part  silent  Imperialists  to  whom  the 
Empire  is  a  living  thing.  It  startled  and  even  impressed 
the  Radicals  themselves  who  could  hardly  understand 
how  an  American  Republican  should  be  preaching  an 
Imperial  gospel.  The  English  Press  reflected  these 
impressions  and  through  the  English  Press  they  found 
their  way,  no  doubt,  into  the  American  Press.  And 
there  were,  I  have  heard,  multitudes  of  Americans 
who  felt  a  patriotic  pleasure  in  this  spectacle  of  a 
distinguished  American  hitting  out  straight  from  the 
shoulder  at  his  English  friends. 

Not  for  worlds  would  I  say  a  word  to  disturb  this 
patriotic  ecstasy.  But  there  is,  in  fact,  a  very  con- 
siderable difference  between  the  methods  of  the 
English  Press  and  the  American  Press  in  dealing  with 
a  matter  so  complicated  as  this.  We  should  have  said 
pretty  nearly  what  we  thought.  If  an  Englishman 
had  stood  up  at  a  Chamber  of  Commerce  dinner  in 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        369 

New  York  and  told  us  we  were  letting  things  go  to 
the  devil  in  the  Philippines — at  a  time  when  they  were 
going  to  the  devil — we  should  have  resented  it, 
Mr.  Roosevelt  first  of  all,  and  told  him  it  was  no 
business  of  his,  and  that  an  exhortation  by  an  English- 
man to  Americans  about  American  affairs,  and  a 
criticism  on  our  conduct  of  them,  was  an  imperti- 
nence ;    as  it  would  have  been. 

Not  so  the  English  papers.  They  dealt  gently  with 
Mr.  Roosevelt.  Those  who  agreed  with  him  about 
Egypt  said  they  agreed,  and  some  of  them  said  it  was 
well  they  should  be  reminded  of  their  duty;  though 
they  did  not  say  by  a  foreigner.  They  even  took  a 
humorous  view  of  this  incident.  They  thought  it 
natural  enough  that  Mr.  Roosevelt's  apostolic  fervour 
should  blind  him  to  considerations  of  time  and  place  ; 
though  they  delicately  hinted  that  it  might  be  possible 
to  be  apostolic  and  polite  at  the  same  time. 

Far  otherwise  was  the  tone  in  private  life.  If  in 
print  the  English  put  decorum  first,  in  private  they 
speak  out.  They,  in  fact,  said  in  private  very  much 
what  we  should  have  said  in  print.  The  men  who 
agreed  with  Mr.  Roosevelt  about  Egypt  said  the 
hardest  things  of  him.  I  used  to  hear  their  most 
explosive  criticisms  for  the  most  part  at  second- 
hand ;  since  even  in  their  wrath  they  were  mindful 
of  the  civilities  they  thought  Mr.  Roosevelt  had 
violated,  and  would  not  condemn  him  to  an  American. 
But  American  or  not,  you  could  not  live  here  without 
becoming  aware  of  the  state  of  feeling.  To  Mr. 
Roosevelt  himself  they  made,  I  think,  only  smooth 
speeches.  Not  in  the  presence  of  any  American 
would  they  talk  about  "  Yankee  impudence."  But 
among  themselves  they  appear  to  have  used  even 
stronger  phrases. 


370       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

A  public  luncheon  or  dinner,  moreover,  is  neutral 
ground  unless  avowedly  political.  In  the  presence  of 
Ministers  or  of  Ministers'  friends,  no  Englishman 
vi^ould  have  attacked  Ministers  or  their  policy.  I 
know  the  ice  is  getting  thin,  but  I  will  venture  to  say 
that  such  an  attack  as  Mr.  Littleton  made  on  the 
President  and  his  trust  policy  at  a  dinner  where  the 
President  was  the  guest  of  honour  would  have  been 
impossible  in  England.  It  would  have  been  thought 
unmannerly,  inconsistent  with  that  political  and  social 
decency  expected  of  public  men.  Mr.  Roosevelt's 
offence  was  not  of  the  same  kind  or  degree,  but  it 
was  nevertheless  according  to  English  ideas  an 
offence.  And,  in  the  long  run,  it  injured  the  cause 
he  meant  to  support.  The  injury  was  not,  we  may 
hope,  permanent.  Ministers  have  done  what  they 
could  to  remedy  their  tolerance  of  the  Nationalist 
movement  in  Egypt.  They  have  put  Lord  Kitchener 
in  charge  ;  and  Lord  Kitchener's  name  alone  was 
sufficient  to  restore  order. 

Apart  from  this  Egyptian  business,  Mr.  Roosevelt 
left  none  but  pleasant  memories  behind  him.  He 
came  among  the  English  with  a  renown  greater  than 
that  of  any  American  they  had  seen.  General  Grant 
excepted.  He  left  them  with  his  renown  undiminished. 
They  recognized  his  great  qualities.  They  saw  in  him 
a  man  ;  and  that  is  what  they  like  best.  His  frankness 
appealed  to  them.  If  it  amused  them  to  find  him 
so  very  glad  to  meet  so  many  total  strangers,  that  did 
him  no  harm.  They  thought  him  sincere,  though 
exuberant ;  with  an  essential  sincerity  of  character. 
Possibly  they  knew  he  has  not  a  drop  of  English  blood 
in  his  veins  and  is  rather  fond  of  saying  so,  but  they 
none  the  less  recognized  in  him  a  kinship  of  soul  and 
of  character.     He  was  a  force,  and  to  them  a  sympa- 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        371 

thetic  force.  They  like  a  man  who  has  done  things ; 
who  has  played  a  great  part  greatly.  They  knew  he 
had  been  a  strong  President,  and  sometimes  arbitrary, 
and  liked  him  none  the  worse  for  that.  With  this 
nation  of  sportsmen  his  exploits  in  Africa  had  set 
the  seal  to  his  fame.  They  expressed  it  in  their 
moderate  colloquial  English  way  : 

"  There  can't  be  much  the  matter  with  a  man 
who  goes  for  big  game." 

They  thought  it  graceful  and  fitting  that  he  should 
have  wished  to  be  Special  Ambassador  at  the  funeral 
of  King  Edward ;  a  King  whose  greatness  looms  larger 
year  by  year.  His  appearance  at  that  ceremony 
was  not  what  it  might  have  been.  He  was  one  of 
three  in  a  royal  closed  carriage.  A  European  news- 
paper told  us  that  he  himself  did  not  like  it,  saying  : 

"  I  put  myself  in  the  hands  of  the  authorities 
and  was  ready  to  do  what  they  liked,  but  I  did  not 
expect  to  ride  with  a  Dago  and  a  Chinkie." 

I  quote  it  only  to  remark  that,  widely  circulated 
as  the  speech  was,  it  cannot  have  been  uttered  by 
Mr.  Roosevelt,  His  companions  were  the  French 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  and  the  Persian  Minister. 
The  English  would  have  liked  to  see  the  ex-President 
by  himself  on  horseback,  perhaps  in  the  uniform  of 
a  Rough  Rider  ;  not  in  a  tall  hat  and  evening  clothes. 
But  that  mattered  little.  What  mattered  was  his 
presence  and  all  that  it  signified.  The  presence  of 
his  daughter,  Mrs.  Longworth,  added  to  the  content 
of  the  English  who  had  admired  and  liked  the  Alice 
Roosevelt  of  earlier  days,  and  paid  homage  to  her 
beauty  and  her  delightful  originalities,  and  to  all  the 
attractions  they  loved  the  better  because  they  were 
American  and  not  English. 

Of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  political  misadventures  since  his 


372       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

return,  I  don't  think  the  English  knew  much  until  he 
suddenly  appeared  as  an  opponent  of  the  President's 
Arbitration  Treaties.  There  his  attitude  perplexes 
them.  The  fact  of  his  opposition  is  better  known 
than  the  grounds  of  it.  The  cable  does  not  much 
concern  itself  with  reasons.  It  gives  results.  But 
embittered  phrases  come  to  us  from  beneath  the 
Atlantic.  The  Arbitration  Treaties  and  the  support  of 
them  are,  says  Mr.  Roosevelt,  a  "  hypocritical  move 
against  the  interests  of  peace  and  against  the  honour 
and  interests  of  the  United  States  and  civilization." 
In  his  magazine  and  in  his  letter  to  the  Peace  Dinner 
Committee,  the  words  hypocrisy  and  hypocritical  are 
used  more  than  once.  To  whom  do  they  apply  ? 
President  Taft  appears  to  be  accused  of  hypocrisy 
because  he  did  not  submit  to  arbitration  the  issue 
between  Russia  and  the  United  States  touching  the 
Treaty  of  1832,  which  he  gave  notice  he  would  abro- 
gate. President  Taft  replied  civilly  and  conclusively 
that  there  could  be  no  question  of  arbitration.  He 
terminates  the  Treaty  not  because  it  has  been  violated 
but  because  it  is  obsolete.  Under  the  Treaty  when 
negotiated,  the  American  theory  and  the  Russian  theory 
of  expatriation  were  the  same.  They  are  no  longer  the 
same  and  therefore  a  new  Treaty  must  be  made. 
I  should  never  apply  to  Mr.  Roosevelt  the  language 
he  uses  to  President  Taft,  whom  he  must  in  his  sober 
moments  know  to  be  incapable  of  hypocrisy.  Mr. 
Roosevelt  is  as  sincere  as  he  is  intemperate.  Let  us. 
admit,  and  regret,  that  he  honestly  believes  it  im- 
possible to  differ  from  him  honestly. 

The  Arbitration  Treaties  are  popular  in  England, 
and  with  all  classes  of  Enghsh.  Not  an  influential 
voice  has  been  raised  against  them.  They  are  believed 
to   be   popular   in   America,    the    Senate,    of   course, 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        373 

excepted  ;  it  being  well  understood  that  to  that 
august  but  difficult  body  all  treaties,  as  treaties,  are 
objects  of  suspicion  and  hatred.  The  English  do  not 
understand  party  divisions  or  personal  animosities  in 
American  politics.  They  cannot  be  expected  to.  I 
sometimes  wonder  whether  we  understand  them  our- 
selves. And  so  they  ask  in  a  dazed  way  why  Mr. 
Roosevelt  should  be  so  often  in  antagonism  to  the 
President  whom  he  chose,  so  far  as  he  could  choose, 
to  be  his  successor  ;  who  was  the  heir  to  his  policy 
or  policies  ;  and  who  has  carried  steadily  on,  though 
by  less  violent  methods,  the  work  which  Mr.  Roosevelt 
began.  To-day  Europe  regards  Mr.  Taft  as  a  sagacious 
and  great  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  great  American 
Republic.  The  censoriousness  of  The  Outlook  has  not 
diminished  Mr.  Taft's  fame  abroad.  Has  it  at  home  ? 
I  impute  no  ill  motive  to  his  critic,  nor  does  anybody 
here  think  Mr.  Roosevelt  moved  by  jealous  envy  of  his 
successor.  The  only  serious  comment  I  have  heard  is 
that  an  energetic  Executive  is  not  necessarily  an  effec- 
tive critic  of  policies  or  purposes  in  which  he  no  longer 
has  an  active  share. 


VI 

PERSONAL    INCIDENTS POLITICAL    NIHILISMS 

Mr.  Roosevelt's  English  sympathies,  of  which  our 
Irish  friends  and  enemies  sometimes  complain,  are  I 
think  of  comparatively  recent  growth.  His  attitude 
during  the  Boer  War  was,  to  say  the  least,  critical. 
His  reception  of  Irish  emissaries  during  his  Presidency 
lacked  no  clement  of  cordiality  to  the  Irish,  and  some- 
times provoked  comment  in  England,  where  however 
incidents  of  that  kind  have  been  too  frequent  to  cause 


374      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

surprise.  The  Englishman  who  is  aware  of  them 
mutters  something  about  the  Irish  vote  in  America, 
and  turns  a  bhnd  eye  to  the  cable  dispatches  which 
record  these  singular  manifestations  of  friendship 
to  a  friendly  Government. 

Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  characteristic  of  the 
Englishman  than  his  indifference  to  proceedings  of 
the  kind  Mr.  Roosevelt  and  other  Presidents  before  him 
have  thought  consistent  with  international  comity. 
He  knows  little  about  them  and  cares  less.  A  question 
may  be  asked  in  Parliament  or  in  private.  Somebody 
asked  one  the  other  day  about  Mr.  Champ  Clark  and 
his  schoolboy  talk  of  annexing  Canada.  The  new 
Under-Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs,  Mr.  Acland, 
answered  with  polite  contempt  that  he  did  not  suppose 
Mr.  Champ  Clark  was  to  be  taken  seriously.  Nor  does 
it  appear  that  his  buffooneries  disturb  the  good  feeling 
happily  existing  in  both  countries.  The  cable,  I 
suppose,  must  report  them  and  the  papers  must  print 
them,  but  not  a  ripple  is  left  on  the  surface. 

The  Senate  of  the  United  States  once  refused  to 
adopt  a  resolution  expressing  the  regret  of  the  Ameri- 
can people  at  the  death  of  Mr.  John  Bright,  the  best 
and  most  powerful  friend  the  American  people  had 
in  England  in  the  days  when  they  had  few.  Years 
afterward,  upon  some  reference  to  it,  Mr.  Bright's 
son  told  me  he  had  never  heard  of  it  and  asked  if  it 
was  true.  Of  President  Roosevelt's  coquetries  with 
Mr.  O'Connor  and  other  Nationalist  agents  not  much 
more  notice  was  taken.  One  Englishman,  a  man  as 
likely  as  anybody  to  be  sensitive  in  such  a  matter, 
said : 

"  Well,  O'Connor  is  an  amusing  devil  and  I  suppose 
he  amused  Mr.  Roosevelt." 

The  Boer  sympathies  of  Mr.  Roosevelt  were  de- 


MR.   THEODORE   ROOSEVELT        375 

veloped  before  he  became  President,  and  probably 
were  never  declared  in  such  a  way  as  to  attract  atten- 
tion in  England.  For  that  was  a  subject  on  which  even 
an  Englishman  had  susceptibilities.  Mr.  Roosevelt's 
Dutch  blood  did  not  run  in  his  veins  for  nothing. 
He  probably  thought  of  the  Boers  as  Mr.  Gladstone 
thought  of  the  Confederates,  "  a  people  rightly 
struggling  to  be  free  "  and  to  keep  other  people  in 
slavery,  since  in  the  annals  of  slavery  there  is  nothing 
more  horrible  than  the  cruelties  of  the  Boers  to  the 
African  natives.  But,  to  quote  Mr.  Disraeli  once  more, 
a  great  deal  has  happened  since  then,  and  I  pass  from 
the  subject.  Nor  do  I  mean  to  question  the  sincerity 
of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  conversion.  He  has  since  proved 
his  goodwill  to  England  on  some  memorable  occasions. 
Even  his  outburst  in  the  Guildhall  about  Egypt  was, 
in  his  own  view,  an  expression  of  friendship. 

The  English,  in  any  case,  if  they  knew  of  Mr.  Roose- 
velt's Boer  partialities,  bore  no  malice.  When  the  ex- 
President  started  after  big  game  in  a  part  of  Africa 
under  English  jurisdiction,  the  Governor  of  the  pro- 
vince not  only  gave  him  all  facilities,  but  a  territory 
to  himself  ;  from  which,  so  long  as  Mr.  Roosevelt  was 
pursuing  his  game  and  his  natural  history  researches, 
all  other  sportsmen  were  excluded  ;  a  stretch  of  the 
Governor's  authority,  perhaps,  though  sanctioned  at 
home,  but  excellent  evidence  of  good  nature.  This 
again  contributed  to  swell  his  renown  as  a  mighty 
hunter  and  to  augment  the  cordiality  of  his  reception 
in  London.  I  believe  Mr.  Roosevelt  thought  London 
more  friendly  than  all  other  European  capitals  ; 
and  it  was  from  London  that  he  carried  with  him, 
it  may  be,  the  extreme  conception  of  his  own  power 
which  led  him  to  undertake  that  disastrous  political 
campaign  at  home  two  months  later. 


376       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

He  was  just  as  human  after  he  became  President 
as  before  ;  and  just  as  much  Roosevelt.  His  liking 
for  "  fun  "  was  not  less  evident  in  the  White  House 
than  in  the  Police  Head-quarters  in  New  York  or  the 
Executive  Mansion  at  Albany.  At  one  moment  the 
ringing  laugh  of  boyhood  ;  at  the  next,  all  seriousness 
and  firm  purpose.  It  was  just  after  one  of  these  ex- 
plosions of  irrepressible  good  humour  that  I  took  up 
a  new  pattern  of  policeman's  club  lying  on  his  desk, 
a  thing  of  solid  india-rubber  or  gutta-percha,  and 
asked  him  whether  he  was  going  to  adopt  it  for  the 
police  force.    Instantly  his  face  grew  grave. 

"  No  ;    it  is  too  lethal." 

I  told  him  I  had  seen  men  drop  dead  from  a  blow 
with  the  clubs  then  in  use.    He  said  : 

"  No  doubt ;    but  the  fewer  the  better." 

Yet  he  would  not  shrink  from  strong  measures. 
At  the  time  of  the  great  Pennsylvania  strikes  a  notion 
spread  among  the  trade  unionists  that  the  President 
was  on  their  side  and  would  not  interfere  to  keep  order, 
no  matter  to  what  violence  they  resorted.  I  said  so  to 
him.    The  lines  of  the  jaw  tightened,  and  he  answered : 

"  If  they  think  I  am  going  to  tolerate  mob  law  they 
will  find  out  their  mistake  five  minutes  after  they  have 
begun." 

There  spoke  the  President  we  admired  and  trusted. 
Whatever  else  he  might  be,  he  was  the  inflexible 
guardian  of  public  order.  The  Washington  negroes, 
or  some  of  them,  a  turbulent  crew,  misunderstood  him 
in  much  the  same  way  and  thought  him  their  champion 
for  all  purposes.  A  black  burglar  seized  by  the  police 
as  he  was  entering  a  house,  shook  his  huge  fist  in  their 
faces,  saying :  "  That  man  up  that  will  look  after 
me."  "  Up  thar  "  was  the  White  House.  But  he 
went  comfortably  to  prison  all  the  same. 


MR.    THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        377 

The  history  of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  relations  with  the 
Senate  would  make  a  chapter,  or  a  volume,  invaluable 
for  public  use  and  for  a  just  appreciation  of  that 
remarkable  body  and  its  oligarchical  tendencies. 
While  Vice-President  and  presiding  officer  of  the 
Senate,  he  had  seen  this  assembly  of  patriots  at  close 
quarters.  Even  then  they  showed  a  curious  dislike 
or  distrust  of  him,  and  thought  it  desirable  to  read 
him  a  lesson.  As  Vice-President  he  was  an  outsider, 
and  the  Senate  prefers  one  of  its  own  members  to 
guide,  or  not  to  guide,  its  deliberations,  when  it  gets 
a  chance  to  choose.  When  Mr.  Roosevelt  arrived, 
new  to  these  duties  and  with  all  sorts  of  laurels, 
municipal,  military,  and  executive,  the  Senate,  or  some 
of  the  Senators,  benevolently  undertook  to  begin  his 
education  over  again.  The  rules  of  this  body  are 
at  best  elastic,  but  certain  rules  and  customs  and 
traditions  are  rigid  enough,  and  some  of  these  the 
inexperienced  young  man  who  had  been  in  Cuba  "  all 
alone,"  and  had  governed  the  seven  millions  of  people 
who  compose  the  State  of  New  York,  disregarded. 
He  had  a  notion,  not  shared  by  the  Senate,  that  rules 
were  meant  to  facilitate  business,  and  used  them  to 
that  end.  I  don't  say  that  a  trap  was  laid  for  him  but, 
however  it  happened,  he  found  himself  at  odds  with 
some  of  the  Senate  leaders,  his  rulings  questioned,  and 
precedents  quoted  against  him.  He  gave  way,  but  it 
may  well  enough  be  that,  though  the  King  forgot,  or  said 
he  forgot,  the  grievances  of  the  Dauphin,  the  President 
remembered  the  affront  put  on  him  as  Vice-President. 

I  had  sat  one  day  for  half  an  hour  with  the  President 
in  the  Cabinet  chamber,  where  at  that  time  he  gave 
audience  or,  if  you  like  better,  received  visitors  who 
had  appointments.  When  I  rose  to  go  he  said  with  a 
whimsical  look  in  his  eyes : 


378       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

"  Do  you  know  you  have  been  keeping  Senators 
waiting  all  this  time,  and  they  don't  like  waiting  ?  " 

And  when  I  suggested  that  it  was  in  his  power, 
but  not  in  mine,  to  make  these  great  men  dance 
attendance  outside,  he  said : 

"  It  is  good  for  them.  I  am  President,  after  all. 
But  don't  go.  Sit  on  that  sofa  in  the  corner  and  hear 
what  they  have  to  say.     It  may  amuse  you." 

"  But  it  may  not  amuse  them." 

"  Never  you  mind.  When  I  think  you  ought  to 
go  I  will  tell  you." 

I  did  as  I  was  bidden.  The  faces  of  the  Senators 
who  one  after  another  came  in  were  studies  in  surprise 
and  some  stronger  feelings.  The  President  received 
them  as  usual  and  as  if  nobody  else  was  there,  and 
talked,  though  they  did  not,  with  freedom.  When  they 
hesitated  he  said,  "  Oh,  go  on,"  and  to  the  end  enjoyed 
the  "  fun."  Some  of  the  Senators  I  knew  and  they 
me,  but  that  did  not  seem  to  relieve  the  situation. 
There  were  others  beside  Senators,  among  them 
district  political  managers — bosses,  in  short — with 
candidates  to  urge  for  offices.  The  President  listened 
to  them,  but  when  they  had  stated  their  case  it 
presently  appeared  that  he  knew  as  much  as  they  did 
about  their  districts  and  candidates  and  local  affairs. 
He  may  have  been  coached  beforehand,  but  there 
seemed  no  detail  of  local  politics  or  men  unknown  to 
him.  I  thought  of  Gambetta,  with  a  secret  service 
spreading  all  over  France.  It  was  said  of  the  great 
Frenchman  that  one  reason  of  his  supremacy  was  his 
mastery  of  affairs  and  his  all-embracing  knowledge. 
It  might  be  said  of  Mr.  Roosevelt. 

Twice  I  saw  the  President  in  less  august  company. 
His  barber  came  in  and  shaved  him  while  he  talked 
without  ceasing.     "  It's  the  only  time  I  can  get," 


MR.    THEODORE   ROOSEVELT        379 

remarked  Mr.  Roosevelt.  "  I  hope  you  don't  mind." 
I  did  not  mind.     It  was  one  trait  the  more. 

Twice  in  his  PoHce  and  Vice-Presidential  days  I 
met  him  in  odd  ways.  Once  was  at  the  Oriental  Hotel 
where  Mr.  Piatt,  then  in  the  height  of  his  power 
or  not  far  from  it,  was  staying.  "  I  think  we  might 
call  on  Mr.  Piatt,"  said  Mr.  Roosevelt,  and  we  did. 
We  spent  an  hour  with  him,  and  this  time  he  carried 
discretion  so  far  as  to  leave  politics  wholly  aside. 
During  most  of  the  visit  he  discoursed  to  Mr.  Piatt 
and  me  on  early  Macedonian  history,  with  elucidations 
of  the  policy  and  doctrines  of  Antigonus,  Antipater, 
and  I  know  not  who  else.  Mr.  Piatt's  face  meanwhile 
was  a  mask.  Much  later  we  both  dined  with  Senator 
Depew  in  Washington,  who  had  as  guest  Mr.  Frederic 
Harrison  from  London  whose  knowledge  of  ancient 
history  was  certainly  much  greater  than  Mr.  Piatt's. 
To  Mr.  Harrison  also  Mr.  Roosevelt  enlarged  after 
dinner  on  this  same  topic  of  Macedonia.  He  might 
have  been  a  college  professor  expounding  history  to 
his  pupils.  Mr.  Harrison,  who  has  always  thought 
himself  better  fitted  to  teach  than  to  learn,  listened 
with  politeness,  not  without  surprise,  and  abstained 
from  all  comment  on  the  lecturer's  views.  He  re- 
covered himself  later  in  England,  upon  the  appearance 
of  a  friendly  review  of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  Cromwell 
by  Lord  Morley  ;  asking  Morley,  "  How  could  you 
praise  such  a  book  as  that  ?  "  But  I  imagine  most  of 
us  would  sooner  accept  Morley's  opinion  than  Harri- 
son's. 

It  may  not  be  an  auspicious  moment  to  revive  the 
memory  of  the  President's  hospitality  to  Mr.  Booker 
Washington,  nor  do  I  know  whether  the  true  story  of 
that  incident  has  been  told.  Nothing  could  be  simpler. 
The  President  had  seen  Mr.  Booker  Washington  in 


38o       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

the  morning,  and  they  had  discussed  together  Mr. 
Washington's  plans  for  the  education  and  other 
improvement  of  the  negro.  They  could  not  finish, 
and  in  order  to  go  on  with  the  talk  the  President 
said  to  Mr.  Booker  Washington :  "  Come  back  to 
dinner  and  we  can  take  the  matter  up  again."  Said 
the  President : 

"  I  asked  him  just  as  I  asked  Mr.  Powderly  the  other 
day  in  the  same  circumstances  ;  in  both  cases  with  no 
other  thought  than  to  dispatch  as  quickly  as  possible 
the  business  we  had  in  hand." 

Whoever  knows  Mr.  Roosevelt  will  see  at  once  how 
natural,  and  of  course  true,  is  this  explanation.  It 
was  thus  and  not  otherwise  that  the  invitation  was 
given.  Nobody  was  more  astonished  than  the  Presi- 
dent that  an  incident  so  trivial  in  itself,  or  which  he 
thought  trivial,  should  have  roused  the  whole  South 
to  fury,  and  have  led  the  ex-Confederates  or  their 
children  to  believe  that  he  meant  to  establish  a 
social  equality  between  white  and  black  ;  which  surely 
never  entered  his  mind. 

I  have  referred  before  to  the  meeting  of  the  Presi- 
dent and  of  Mr.  Oliver  Borthwick,  the  young  English- 
man whose  achievements  and  charm  of  character 
delighted  everybody  and  delighted  Mr.  Roosevelt. 
When  I  told  him  how  much  the  President  had  relished 
his  talk  at  lunch,  Borthwick  said : 

"  That's  awfully  good  of  him,  but  you  know  it 
was  he  who  did  the  talking." 

Similar  stories  are  known  of  Mr.  Gladstone  and 
Sir  Arthur  Godley,  and  of  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Lord 
Edmund  Fitzmaurice  when  he  had  been  appointed 
Commissioner  to  the  Balkans.  Fitzmaurice  told  me 
of  his  own  experience,  so  that  two  of  the  three  anec- 
dotes are  certainly  true.     Why  should  they  not  be  ? 


MR.   THEODORE    ROOSEVELT        381 

Nobody  ever  wished  to  interrupt  either  Mr.  Gladstone 
or  Mr.  Roosevelt. 

Yet  to  interrupt  Mr.  Roosevelt  might  have  been, 
at  certain  moments,  to  do  him  a  service.  One  such 
moment  was  during  his  speech  at  Osawatomie  when 
he  denounced  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
because  some  of  its  decisions  were  not  in  accord  with 
the  trend  of  modern  opinion  ;  in  other  words,  with 
Mr.  Roosevelt's  opinions.  Still  more  grotesque  was 
his  conception  of  that  great  tribunal  when  he  declared 
that  in  its  decisions  in  the  Standard  Oil  and  Tobacco 
Trust  cases  it  had  "  legislated."  Had  that  been  true 
it  would  have  discredited  the  Court,  but  Mr.  Roosevelt 
said  the  Court  was  right  to  legislate.  He  went  further 
still.  He  proclaimed  it  the  duty  of  the  Supreme  Court 
to  legislate  whenever  Congress  should  omit  to  pass 
such  laws  as  ought  to  be  passed  in  the  interests  of  the 
Republic.  If  Congress  did  not  do  what  Mr.  Roosevelt 
thought  it  ought  to  do,  then  the  Supreme  Court 
must  usurp  the  legislative  authority  of  Congress. 
There  is  no  other  remedy,  said  Mr.  Roosevelt  in  his 
impetuous  way  ;  forgetting  two  things.  Forgetting, 
first,  that  it  is  not  for  any  one  American,  however 
eminent,  to  determine  what  the  public  good  im- 
peratively demands,  but  for  the  whole  American 
people.  Forgetting,  secondly,  that  the  people  has 
the  remedy  in  its  own  hands,  and  the  power  to  elect 
another  Congress  to  do  what  this  Congress  neglects. 
Forgetting  also  that  the  Constitution  divides  the 
powers  of  the  Government  into  legislative,  executive, 
and  judicial,  and  that  for  any  branch  to  assume  the 
functions  of  any  other  is  an  act  of  usurpation. 

Still  more  recently  he  has  been  urging  that  there 
should  be  some  sort  of  appeal  from  the  Supreme  Court 
to  the  people.     Certain  decisions  of  the  Court  arc  to 


382       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

be  subject,  apparently,  to  a  referendum.  The  judicial 
powers  which  the  Constitution  has  placed  in  the  hands 
of  the  Court  are  to  be,  in  the  last  resort,  annulled  by- 
popular  vote.  The  Oklahoma  doctrine  of  "  recall  " — 
the  power  of  removing  unpopular  judges  by  a  plebis- 
cite— is  to  be  applied,  not  to  the  judges  but  to  their 
considered  and  final  judgments.  Jefferson  in  his 
wildest  exaltation  of  Democracy  never  touched  the 
confines  of  a  madness  like  this. 

For  many  years  Mr.  Roosevelt  has  been  under- 
mining the  reverence  of  the  American  people  for  law 
and  for  the  Constitution  which  is  our  fundamental 
law.  He  would  substitute — he  has  at  times  substituted 
— for  law  his  own  convictions  ;  forgetting  again  the 
memorable  declaration  that  a  Constitution  was  framed 
"  to  the  end  that  this  may  be  a  government  of  laws 
and  not  of  men."  If  respect  for  the  Constitution  goes, 
and  for  the  Supreme  Court  as  the  authorized  inter- 
preter of  the  Constitution  and  of  the  laws,  everything 
goes.  The  foundations  of  the  American  Republic 
will  have  disappeared. 

Mr.  Roosevelt  to-day  is  one  of  the  forces  that  make 
for  their  destruction,  and  the  doctrines  he  preaches 
are  the  doctrines  of  Anarchy. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

COUNT   WITTE    AND    WHAT    HE   DID    AT 
PORTSMOUTH 

I 

CINCE  1905  Count  Witte  has  withdrawn  from 
pubhc  Hfe  and  his  name  is  not  often  mentioned. 
But  forgotten  he  can  never  be,  nor  can  history  ever 
be  silent  concerning  the  man  who  won  a  diplomatic 
victory  for  his  country  at  Portsmouth  after  her  defeat 
on  the  battlefields  of  Asia.  Count  Witte  was  the  real 
hero  of  the  Portsmouth  Conference.  By  his  adroitness 
the  Conference  was  kept  alive  when  but  for  him  it 
must  have  collapsed.  By  his  courage,  his  unbending 
resolve,  his  masterly  and  masterful  diplomacy,  was  the 
triumph  for  Russia  achieved.  He  has  had  none  too 
much  recognition ;  reason  enough  why  he  should 
have  a  little  more  and  why  some  part  of  the  truth 
hitherto  withheld  should  now  be  stated. 

When  I  left  London,  reluctantly  enough,  for 
Portsmouth,  I  took  passage  on  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  der 
Grosse  because  Count  Witte  was  known  to  be  going 
by  that  ship.  We  sailed  from  Southampton  Wednes- 
day noon,  expecting  to  pick  up  the  Russian  at  Cher- 
bourg by  six  o'clock  that  evening.  But  there  was 
delay  and  the  ship  anchored  at  the  Needles.  Nobody 
would  tell  us  why,  though  finally  an  officer  assured  us 
we  should  start  at  three  o'clock  next  morning.  Upon 
this  I  assumed  that  there  was  an  accident  to  the 
machinery  and  that  it  would  take  all  these  hours  to 

383 


384       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

make  repairs.  Not  on  any  other  theory  could  the 
fixing  of  a  precise  hour  for  restarting  be  explained. 
At  seven  o'clock  we  dined.  The  North  German,  by 
which  I  mean  especially  Prussian,  cuisine  is  the  most 
highly  coloured  in  Europe,  and  whether  you  dine 
at  a  big  hotel  in  Berlin  or  on  a  North  German  Lloyd 
ship  the  prismatic  hues  of  the  dishes  are  much  the 
same.  The  food  is  various,  abundant,  and  well  suited, 
I  doubt  not,  to  the  German  taste. 

After  dinner  I  went  on  deck,  to  find  the  ship  still 
anchored  at  the  Needles  and  a  brilliant  starlit  evening. 
Presently  I  met  a  high  officer  of  the  ship  and  asked 
him  how  the  machinery  repairs  were  getting  on.  With 
a  surprised  air  he  answered  : 

"  The  machinery  is  all  right." 

"  Then  what  are  we  waiting  for  ?  " 

"  We  can't  move  till  the  fog  lifts." 

I  looked  at  him  and  then  at  the  sea  and  sky.  Above 
and  below  it  was  clear  as  daylight  for  as  many  miles 
as  the  eye  could  reach.     But  my  friend  said : 

"  Oh,  it's  the  fog  in  the  Channel  that  keeps  us." 

And  as  I  suppose  I  still  looked  puzzled,  he  added : 

"  Don't  you  know  that  the  Channel  is  the  great 
highway  of  the  world's  trade  from  East  to  West  and 
from  West  to  East,  and  that  to  cross  the  line  of  this 
traffic,  as  we  must,  from  North  to  South  is  a  dangerous 
business  ?  " 

What  a  remark  to  make  to  a  passenger  !  But  again 
he  said : 

"  If  you  will  come  to  my  cabin  I  will  show  you  a 
thick  pile  of  telegrams  all  reporting  dense  fog  all  over 
the  Channel." 

I  had  it  on  my  lips  to  say  that  I  thought  a  British 
captain  would  at  least  have  gone  on  till  he  found  the 
fog.     But  I  did  not ;    nor  did  I  look  at  the  fog  tele- 


COUNT   WITTE  385 

grams,  but  thanked  him  and  said  good  night  and  sat 
down  in  my  deck  chair  to  meditate  on  the  different 
methods  of  seamanship  prevaiHng  in  German  and 
British  ships.  It  was  long  past  midnight  when  I 
turned  in  ;  the  big  ship  still  anchored  and  myriads  of 
stars  still  mirrored  in  the  smooth  waters  about  us. 
What  time  we  finally  got  away  I  never  knew,  but  the 
ship  was  under  full  steam  at  breakfast,  and  we  reached 
Cherbourg,  a  six  hours'  passage,  between  two  and  three 
o'clock  that  Thursday  afternoon  ;  some  twenty-seven 
hours  out  from  Southampton.  A  tender  met  us  in  the 
harbour  with  the  passengers  who  had  left  Paris  Wednes- 
day morning  expecting  to  embark  that  same  afternoon. 
The  hotels  of  Cherbourg  could  put  up  but  a  fraction 
of  the  whole  number.  The  rest  had  spent  the  night  in 
the  railway  station  or  in  the  streets,  and  looked  it. 
Some  of  them  complained  bitterly  that  they  had  not 
been  warned  of  the  delay  before  leaving  Paris.  But  the 
French  railway  authorities  look  with  no  loving  eye  on 
German  ships,  and,  though  I  believe  they  have  now 
come  to  some  sort  of  terms,  the  stories  of  inconveni- 
ence and  even  hardships  were  for  years  many. 

Count  Witte,  like  his  fellow-passengers  on  the 
tender,  looked  the  worse  for  wear.  He  was  easily 
distinguishable  by  his  great  height  and  Slav  face.  His 
wife  was  with  him  but  here  they  parted  and  he  came 
on  board  the  Kaiser  by  himself,  the  people  on  the 
tender  and  the  ship  saluting  him.  The  Captain  and 
other  officers  were  at  the  gangway  to  receive  him,  and 
I  imagine  they  told  him  they  had  been  delayed  by 
fog.  When  he  asked  me  about  it  some  days  later  I 
did  not  then  like  to  repeat  the  conversation  as  above 
given  and  I  said  that,  so  far  as  I  could  make  out,  the 
German  word  for  fog  and  starlight  was  the  same.  He 
himself  spoke  German  indifferently  well,  but  I  think 
2  c 


386       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

he  did  not  take  my  suggestion  too  literally.  A  Russian 
of  the  Witte  pattern  is  a  quick-witted  person. 

Sir  Donald  Wallace,  my  colleague  on  The  Times,  had 
met  Count  Witte  in  Russia  and  proposed  to  introduce 
me.  But  whereas  Wallace's  sympathies  were  known  to 
be  Russian,  mine,  if  I  had  any,  and  I  think  I  then  had, 
were  Japanese,  and  this  I  knew  Count  Witte  had  been 
told.  I  preferred,  therefore,  to  wait  for  a  signal,  and 
for  two  days  or  perhaps  three  the  ceremony  was 
postponed.  On  the  third  morning  Wallace  said  he 
had  arranged  it,  and  I  was  taken  up  to  Count  Witte 
and  "  presented."  He  was  sitting  far  back  in  his 
chair,  out  of  which  he  slowly  uncoiled  his  long  body, 
climbed  to  his  feet  and,  with  some  perceptible  hesi- 
tation, held  out  his  hand.  His  eyes  looked  distrust- 
fully, almost  fiercely,  into  mine.  The  penetrating 
glance  was  one  you  would  not  forget  when  once  you 
had  endured  it.  The  whole  force  of  the  man  was  con- 
centrated in  his  eyes  and  in  the  great  arched  forehead 
above  them.  The  other  features  were  irregular,  the 
nose  "  aquiline  with  the  curve  reversed  "  ;  the  mouth 
loose-lipped.  Huge  as  his  body  was,  it  gave  you  no 
great  impression  of  power.  The  frame  was  nowhere 
closely  knit ;  the  long  arms  seemed  double-jointed, 
and  he  carried  himself  carelessly,  whether  standing  or 
walking. 

I  was  to  see  Count  Witte  almost  daily  for  the  next 
six  weeks,  but  the  first  impression  held  good  all  through. 
You  could  not  mistake  him  for  anything  but  an  extra- 
ordinary being.  He  was  born  at  Tiflis  but  describes 
himself  as,  on  his  father's  side,  a  descendant  of  Dutch 
emigrants  to  Russia.  No  doubt  but,  as  usual,  it  is 
to  the  mother  we  must  look  for  a  male  child's  essential 
characteristics,  and  his  mother  was  not  Dutch,  but  of 
the  Caucasus.    He  had  an  almost  childlike  openness  of 


COUNT   WITTE  387 

manner  and  behind  it  an  impenetrable  reserve.  You 
never  were  sure  that  you  had  got  inside  his  mind.  He 
had  the  true  Oriental  subtlety.  Tartar  or  Slav  or 
whatever  else,  all  Russians  have  this  Oriental  stamp 
upon  them  ;  this  aloofness  from  the  Western  world. 
I  knew  Count  Witte's  history,  knew  him  as  a  man  of 
the  people  who  had  grown  from  nothing,  highly 
educated  but  as  a  boy  a  railway  servant  like  Carnegie  ; 
and  in  him  a  giant  business  capacity,  also  like  Carnegie. 
He  rose  high  in  railway  management,  then  passed  into 
the  Government  service,  came  to  be  Railway  Director 
in  the  Ministry  of  Finance,  then  Minister  and  remained 
Minister  for  ten  years.  During  that  time  he  restored 
the  railway  and  other  finances  of  Russia,  put  finance 
on  a  gold  coinage  basis,  created  a  State  monopoly  in, 
I  think,  spirits  and  tobacco,  at  any  rate  in  something; 
restored  her  credit  and  reorganized  the  service.  A 
great  piece  of  work  by  a  great  Minister,  and  all  in  ten 
years. 

Everybody  on  the  ship  of  course  knew  Count  Witte 
by  sight,  and  I  suppose  a  few  persons  knew  that  I  was 
The  Times  representative  and  had  a  curiosity  to  see  the 
meeting  between  the  two.  A  little  group  collected. 
Said  Count  Witte : 

"  You  represent  The  Times  in  Washington." 

"  Yes." 

"  Your  dispatches,  or  some  of  them,  have  not  been 
friendly  to  Russia." 

"  If  you  would  say  they  had  been  friendly  to  Japan, 
I  should  agree.  But  American  friendship  to  Russia  is 
traditional  and  older  than  to  Japan." 

This  olive  branch  he  accepted,  and  looking  at  the 
company  surrounding  us  said : 

"  Don't  you  think  wc  could  talk  better  if  we  walked 
the  deck  a  Httlc  ?  " 


388       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

Thus  began  the  first  o£  many,  many  interesting 
and  often  engrossing  conversations.  He  started  warily 
enough  ;  by  no  means  putting  off  all  his  suspicions  at 
once.  He  sought  neutral  ground.  But  before  the 
day  was  over  he  had  so  far  relaxed  as  to  say : 

"  You  are  going  to  Portsmouth  and  you  will  want 
to  know  what  happens.  Whenever  you  will  come  to 
see  me  I  shall  be  happy  to  tell  you  what  I  can." 

He  kept  his  word.  So  long  as  we  were  on  the 
Atlantic  he  talked  mostly  of  other  subjects.  He  was 
bent  on  finding  out  how  matters  stood  in  the  United 
States,  and  what  Americans  thought  about  the  rela- 
tions between  Russia  and  Japan.  He  was  curious  con- 
cerning President  Roosevelt,  and  hearing  that  I  had 
long  known  him  said  : 

"  I  don't  wish  to  ask  you  any  questions  you  are  not 
quite  willing  to  answer,  but  it  is  your  President  who 
has  set  this  Conference  going,  and  anything  you  will 
tell  me  about  him  will  be  of  great  interest.  He  has 
brought  us  a  long  way,  but  the  Japanese  have  had  a 
longer  journey  still,  so  we  don't  complain." 

It  was  easy  to  see  what  a  burden  of  anxiety  he  bore. 
It  could  not  be  otherwise.  He  did  not  complain  of 
that  either.  It  was  inevitable.  The  fortune  of  peace 
or  war,  perhaps  the  whole  future  of  Russia,  lay  in  his 
hand.  Yet  he  bore  himself  light-heartedly  enough. 
He  gave  all  his  thoughts  to  the  subject  of  the  moment, 
whatever  it  was,  and  put  his  mind  to  that.  When  once 
it  was  understood  that  we  were  not  to  discuss  the  work 
of  the  Conference,  the  rest  was  easy. 

Or  easy  with  one  exception.  All  our  talk  was  in 
French.  Count  Witte  had  no  English  and  I  had  no 
Russian.  French  he  spoke  fluently,  inaccurately,  with 
a  royal  contempt  for  grammar  and  genders,  and  with 
an  accent  which  he  may  have  brought  with  him  from 


COUNT    WITTE  389 

the  Caucasus.  The  words  tumbled  over  each  other 
out  of  his  mouth.  The  Frenchmen  themselves  hardly 
speak  their  own  language  with  such  rapidity.  To  add 
to  the  difficulty  a  cigarette  was  always  in  his  lips.  At 
Portsmouth  it  was  worse,  for  there  we  walked  up  and 
down  for  ever  on  a  wooden  piazza,  and  the  noise  of 
two  pairs  of  feet  was  one  confusion  the  more.  Some- 
times I  asked  him  to  repeat  a  sentence.  He  did  it  at  first 
suspiciously,  as  if  he  thought  I  had  another  motive, 
but  when  I  told  him  I  could  not  always  understand,  he 
laughed  and  said  : 

"  True,  it's  not  my  language  nor  yours." 
He  had,  moreover,  the  diplomatist's  habit  of 
generalities.  He  liked  being  a  little  vague  when  hand- 
ling a  delicate  matter.  Yet  for  his  own  purposes  he 
had  a  sufficient  mastery  of  this  tongue  which  was  not 
his  own,  and  you  could  not  afford  to  miss  a  word. 
Often  the  balance  of  his  thought  and  the  expression 
of  it  depended  on  a  shade.  But  he  thought  so  clearly 
and  the  force  of  his  mind  was  such  that  if  he  had 
spoken  Choctaw  his  meaning  would  somehow  have 
found  its  way  to  your  mind. 


II 

What  had  first  impressed  me  in  my  talks  with 
Count  Witte  on  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  der  Grosse  was 
his  cheerfulness.  He  was  on  his  way  to  make  a  Treaty 
of  Peace  at  Portsmouth  with  a  Power  which  had  beaten 
Russia  to  a  standstill  and,  as  most  people  thought,  to 
accept  such  terms  as  Japan  might  see  fit  to  impose. 
But  he  himself  had  never  the  air  of  a  beaten  man.  I 
understood  that  the  President  at  Oyster  Bay  had  been 
not  a  little  surprised  to  find  him  serene  and  apparently 
confident.     Certainly  the  American  public,  prone  at 


390       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

that  time  to  believe  that  its  President's  will  must  pre- 
vail, had  looked  upon  the  conclusion  of  the  Portsmouth 
negotiations  as  foregone.  There  would  be  discussions, 
of  course.  There  might  be  concessions  hy  Japan  on 
minor  points.  But  the  main  issues  had  been  settled 
on  the  battlefields  of  Asia,  and  Portsmouth  was  only 
to  register  the  results. 

When  we  arrived  at  Portsmouth  the  one  hundred 
and  twenty  journalists  were  nearly  all  of  that  mind, 
and  we  were  all  so  many  barometers  whose  minds  were 
made  up  for  us  by  the  atmosphere  we  breathed.  All, 
or  almost  all,  the  first  dispatches  from  this  queer  little 
seaport  watering-place  were  written  in  Japanese.  If 
the  language  was  not  Japanese  the  spirit  was.  The 
American  Press  was  Japanese,  and  of  course  the  English 
since  England  was  the  ally  of  Japan,  and  the  Treaty 
between  them,  already  ten  years  old,  had  profoundly 
modified  the  politics  of  the  East.  Within  a  few  days 
a  change  came.  The  atmosphere  of  Portsmouth  had 
changed.  The  barometers  no  longer  stood  at  set 
fair  or  at  what  the  Japanese  considered  set  fair.  The 
American  Press  itself  had  changed. 

I  cannot  say  whether  Count  Witte  went  there  with 
the  fixed  purpose  of  converting  journalists  and  Press 
to  his  side.  He  was,  at  any  rate,  a  man  with  an  extra- 
ordinary quickness  and  flexibility  of  mind.  He  under- 
stood the  situation  as  nobody  else  understood  it.  He 
understood  the  American  people,  and  how  they  were 
to  be  influenced.  When  he  was  appointed  Plenipo- 
tentiary men  said  of  him  : 

"  Yes,  an  able  man,  but  no  diplomatist.  He  has 
had  no  diplomatic  experience." 

They  said  of  Count  Komura,  the  Japanese  Pleni- 
potentiary : 

"  Yes,   a  great  diplomatist  with  great  diplomatic 


COUNT   WITTE  391 

experience.      Count  Witte  will   be    a    child    in    his 
hands." 

These  opinions  had  to  be  revised  almost  at  once  ; 
and  for  two  reasons.  It  was  seen  that  the  Russian  was 
using  such  means  o£  conciliating  American  opinion  as 
lay  ready  to  his  hands,  and  that  the  Japanese  were  not. 
The  journalists  found  themselves  welcome  at  the 
Russian  head-quarters,  and  the  doors  shut  in  their 
faces  by  the  Japanese.  Then,  though  the  proceedings 
at  the  Conference  were  secret  and  no  journalist  ad- 
mitted, it  became  known  as  soon  as  the  formalities  were 
over  that  the  Russians  did  not  seem  to  be  in  a  yielding 
mood.  Now  a  journalist  in  search  of  news  is  rather 
apt  to  think  nothing  but  news  matters,  and  his  per- 
sonal good  will — for  even  journalists  are  human — goes 
out  to  the  man  who  gives  him  what  news  he  can,  and 
not  to  the  man  who  withholds  what  he  might  give. 
The  conditions  of  secrecy  were  just  as  scrupulously 
observed  by  the  Russians  as  by  the  Japanese,  yet 
within  a  week  the  Russian  view  had  been  put  before 
the  world  in  such  a  way  as  to  unsettle  American  sym- 
pathies with  Japan. 

Count  Witte  might  not  be  able  to  say  much  about 
the  proceedings  of  the  Conference,  and  did  not.  But 
he  talked  freely  on  matters  of  common  knowledge. 
He  stated  the  Russian  case.  The  trained  journalists 
who  found  him  so  ready  to  receive  them  were  equally 
ready  to  present  his  statements  to  their  distant  publics, 
if  only  because  they  had  little  else  to  present.  Count 
Witte  was  far  too  shrewd  to  argue,  or  to  let  it  be  seen 
that  he  was  making  an  appeal  to  America  and  to  the 
world.  He  let  fall  a  sentence  as  if  it  had  slipped  un- 
awares from  his  mouth.  It  might  be  a  fact  or  a  sug- 
gestion. It  might  touch  the  business  of  the  Confer- 
ence or  it  might  be  a  reminiscence  of  the  past.     He 


392      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

offered  it  to  you  as  if  for  want  of  something  better, 
with  a  regret  that  the  obligations  of  secrecy  forbade 
him  to  tell  you  what  had  happened  that  day  at  the 
Conference.  The  journalist,  or  group  of  journalists, 
to  whom  he  said  it  caught  at  it  eagerly,  spread  it  on 
the  wires,  perhaps  a  little  fuller  in  form  than  when 
uttered,  and  next  morning  some  millions  of  people 
in  two  hemispheres  were  reading  it. 

Presently  it  came  back  to  us  in  print,  and  in  print 
it  seemed  a  more  pregnant  saying  than  it  had  seemed 
when  hurriedly  written  out  for  the  telegraph  or  the 
cable.  Some  of  these  dispatches  to  European  journals 
were  sent  in  duplicate  to  American  journals,  so  that 
they  were  all  soon  back  again  in  Portsmouth.  I  omit, 
of  course,  from  this  account  the  dispatches  to  the 
Japanese  papers.  They  were  wholly  of  Japanese 
origin,  or  the  Japanese  correspondents  supposed  they 
were.  Whether  even  the  little  brown  brothers  en- 
tirely escaped  the  influence  of  the  atmosphere  in 
which  they  lived  may  be  doubtful.  It  was,  I  believe, 
thought  in  Tokio  and  other  Japanese  towns  that  the 
news  supplied  to  them  was  meagre,  as  it  was. 

After  this  process  had  gone  on  day  by  day  for  a 
week  or  more  I  took  a  single  series  of  dispatches  and 
read  them  all  over.  I  confess  I  was  astonished  as  I 
saw  how  much  ground  they  covered  and  on  what 
broad  lines  the  Russian  case  had  been  built  up.  I 
began  to  understand  what  an  artist  Count  Witte  was, 
and  how  the  separate  touches  of  his  brush  grouped 
themselves  even  in  this  early  stage  into  something 
like  a  picture.  The  use  he  made  of  his  material  was 
consummately  skilful.  Then  I  began  to  consider  what 
the  effect  of  all  this  must  be  on  the  American  mind  ; 
or,  for  that  matter,  on  the  English.  I  compared  my 
own  daily  impressions  of  what  Count  Witte  had  said 


COUNT   WITTE  393 

:o  me  with  the  sum  of  all  these  impressions  when  taken 
together,  and  I  became  aware  how  far  we  had  all 
travelled  on  the  road  which  the  Russian  had  opened 
before  us.  It  was  not  my  fault  nor  anybody's  fault, 
but  the  road  led  undoubtedly  by  many  a  winding 
path  and  through  a  pleasing  landscape  toward  the 
Russian  camp.  I  repeat,  no  other  road  was  open  to 
us,  no  map  was  at  our  disposal  except  that  provided 
by  Count  Witte,  but  the  result  was  the  same.  We 
had  all  been  composing  for  our  readers  a  guide  book 
to  Russia. 

Thinking  it  all  over,  I  resolved  to  set  forth  this 
view  to  Baron  Takahira.  To  ask  to  see  Count  Komura, 
the  chief  Japanese  Plenipotentiary,  was  useless.  I 
had  already  asked  and  had  been  given  to  understand, 
as  others  were,  that  whatever  Count  Komura  wished 
to  be  known  would  be  made  known  by  Baron  Takahira. 
The  daily  bulletins  issued  by  the  Japanese  and  read 
aloud  to  all  comers  in  the  entrance  hall  of  the  hotel 
conveyed  no  real  information,  and  were  meant  to 
convey  none.  Such  conversations  as  I  had  had  with 
Baron  Takahira  were  not  much  more  enlightening. 
I  had  known  in  times  past,  often  in  very  critical 
times,  a  certain  number  of  Ambassadors  and  Foreign 
Ministers.  Not  one  among  them  all  had  been  so 
closely  boutonne  as  these  Asiatics.  The  Asiatics  had 
adopted,  for  reasons  sufficient  to  them,  a  policy  of 
silence,  and  from  this  they  were  resolved  not  to 
depart.  But  I  thought  the  moment  had  come  to  make 
a  final  attempt,  and  I  made  it. 

Baron  Takahira  received  me,  as  usual,  with  a  grave 
pohtcness  which  did  not  altogether  conceal  a  certain 
hardness  of  temper,  or  even  a  sense  of  embarrassment 
arising  out  of  the  role  he  was  obliged  to  play.  He  said 
at  once  : 


394      ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

"  I  am  afraid  I  can  tell  you  little  or  nothing  beyond 
what  I  have  said  already." 

You  can  never  be  sure  of  surprising  a  diplomatist 
by  the  most  unexpected  statement,  still  less  can  you 
expect  him  to  show  that  he  is  surprised.  But  I  meant 
to  try,  and  I  said  : 

"  Excellency,  I  come  to  you,  of  course,  as  a  journal- 
ist, but  not  wholly  as  a  journalist,  nor  am  I  at  this 
moment  in  search  of  news.  I  come  as  a  journalist 
whom  you  have  known  to  be,  and  who  still  is,  full  of 
good  will  to  Japan.  What  I  want  to  say  to  you  is  that 
I  think  the  interests  of  Japan  have  been  very  gravely 
compromised  within  the  last  week,  and  that  it  is 
you  and  your  chief  who  have  compromised  them." 

For  once  I  had  succeeded  in  surprising  this  astute 
Oriental,  and  for  one  second  he  even  showed  that  he 
was  surprised.  Then,  with  his  usual  inscrutable 
serenity,  he  asked  me  to  explain  what  I  meant.  I 
explained  as  I  have  explained  above  ;  with  less  direct- 
ness but  not  less  plainly,  and  at  far  greater  length. 
He  listened  patiently.  I  gave  him  facts,  quoted 
dispatches,  told  him  what  I  believed  to  be  the  general 
opinion  of  the  journalists  then  present  in  Portsmouth, 
and  laid  before  him  extracts  from  editorial  articles 
in  important  English  and  American  papers.  I  thought 
then,  and  I  still  think,  that  this  mass  of  evidence 
ought  to  have  convinced  him  of  the  peril  to  which 
the  Japanese  policy  was  exposing  the  Japanese  cause. 
To  my  mind  it  was  conclusive.  It  proved  that  a  change 
had  been  going  on  in  the  American  mind,  a  change 
wholly  unfavourable  to  Japan  ;  that  this  change  was 
due  primarily  to  Count  Witte's  relations  with  the 
American  Press,  and  to  the  refusal  of  the  Japanese  to 
make,  in  their  own  interest,  a  legitimate  use  of  the 
columns  open  to  them.    I  urged  upon  him  that,  though 


COUNT   WITTE  395 

the  mischief  had  gone  far,  it  was  not  yet  too  late  to 
stop  it  but  soon  would  be,  and  I  asked  him  to  put  the 
whole  case  before  Count  Komura.  I  did  not  expect 
nor  ask  Baron  Takahira  himself  to  do  more  than 
that. 

I  do  not  think  I  made  any  impression  whatever 
upon  him.  Now  and  then  he  asked  a  question  but, 
for  the  most  part,  was  content  to  listen.  When  I  had 
finished  he  replied  in  a  sentence  : 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you.  I  have  always  known 
you  as  friendly  to  my  country  and  I  have  no  doubt 
you  still  are.  But  our  policy  in  this  matter  has  been 
well  considered." 

Then  in  a  flash  there  came  into  Baron  Takahira's 
face  a  look  I  had  never  seen  there  before,  as  if  for  one 
moment  he  had  forgotten  his  reserve,  and  in  that  one 
moment  the  native  arrogance  of  a  victorious  and  over- 
confident people  blazed  out.  He  flung  his  arms  wide 
apart  and  high,  as  if  to  dismiss  to  the  winds  all  he  had 
heard  from  me,  and  what  sounded  like  a  battle- 
cry  came  from  his  lips  : 

"  We  are  Japanese.     We  are  Japanese." 

As  if  to  say  : 

"  What  matters  to  us  any  opinion  but  our  own  ?  " 

In  his  metallic  tones  rang  out  the  invincible  belief 
of  the  Japanese  in  themselves  and  their  scarce-con- 
cealed contempt  for  the  rest  of  the  world.  The  sword 
of  the  Samurai  whistled  through  the  air  once  again. 
Not  only  that.    Baron  Takahira  added  : 

"  If  you  think  it  advisable  to  say  anything  about  this 
in  print,  I  hope  you  will  let  it  be  seen  that  we  must 
continue  to  act  on  our  own  judgment." 

Not  only  was  he  arrogant  ;  he  wanted  it  known 
that  he  was  arrogant.  The  answer,  of  course,  was 
decisive,  the  rebufi  complete,  and  though  I  continued 


396      ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

to  see  him  the  subject  was  not  again  mentioned. 
Within  less  than  a  week  President  Roosevelt  had 
notified  Japan  that  American  opinion  would  no  longer 
allow  him  to  press  Russia  for  the  payment  of  the 
indemnity  of  $600,000,000,  and  he  must  appeal  to 
them  to  withdraw  their  demand. 


Ill 

Count  Witte  knew  very  well  what  the  Japanese 
were  doing  and  not  doing.  Every  day  brought  him 
fresh  evidence  that  he  had  outwitted  those  subtle 
Orientals,  whom  he  understood  far  better  than  we 
did.    Once  or  twice  he  said  to  me  : 

"  Your  Japanese  friends  don't  seem  to  take  the 
American  public  into  their  confidence." 

Once  he  said  : 

"  I  wonder  whether  Count  Komura  is  aware  that 
there  are  journalists  in  Portsmouth,  and  that  there 
really  is  a  certain  amount  of  American  and  European 
interest  in  our  proceedings." 

He  watched  every  move  in  the  game.  So  far  as 
the  Conference  was  concerned,  he  was  disposed  to 
think  that  the  question  of  Peace  and  War  turned 
rather  upon  outside  influences  than  upon  what  took 
place  in  the  Conference  itself.  At  any  rate,  on  the 
decisive  point,  the  payment  of  a  war  indemnity  by 
Russia  to  Japan,  his  mind  as  we  have  seen  had  been 
made  up  in  advance  and,  momentous  as  the  issue 
was,  it  could  not  be  much  affected  by  debate  between 
the  Plenipotentiaries.  Of  debate  there  was  little. 
There  was  no  one  language  which  all  the  Pleni- 
potentiaries spoke  or  understood. 

I  had  heard,  though  not  from  Count  Witte,  that 
at  the  early  meetings  the  Japanese  had  been  over- 


COUNT   WITTE  397 

bearing  in  manner.  They  did  not  seem  to  be  aware 
that  the  Members  of  the  Conference  met,  and  could 
only  meet,  on  terms  of  equality.  That  is  an  elemen- 
tary and  essential  maxim  of  diplomacy.  But  the 
Japanese  were  still  new  to  the  methods  of  the  West. 
They  had  accepted  in  theory  these  traditions  and 
usages  of  the  West,  but  they  wore  them  as  awk- 
wardly as  they  wore  frock-coats  and  trousers.  They 
were  plainly  surprised  by  the  tone  and  attitude  of 
the  Russians,  and  most  of  all  by  the  jaunty  bearing 
of  Count  Witte  ;  in  whom  there  was  no  trace  of 
humbleness  nor  any  touch  of  that  solemnity  which 
the  Japanese  thought  suitable  to  the  occasion. 

There  could  indeed  be  no  greater  contrast  than 
between  Count  Witte  and  Count  Komura.  The 
Russian  could  have  put  the  Japanese  in  his  pocket ;  as 
in  the  end  he  did.  You  hardly  realized  how  big  the 
Russian  was  till  you  saw  the  little  brown  man  beside 
him  ;  or  under  the  same  roof,  for  I  am  not  sure  they 
ever  met  in  public  except  in  the  dining-room  of  the 
hotel.  Well  over  six  feet  tall,  powerfully  made,  loose 
jointed,  broad  in  the  chest,  easy  in  movement  though 
not  graceful,  a  good-natured,  smiling  giant,  the  eyes 
roving,  piercing,  seeing  everything  from  beneath  a 
lofty  forehead  and  apparently  never  at  rest,  he  was  a 
child  in  simplicity  of  manner,  in  spontaneity,  and  in 
the  total  absence  of  any  effort  at  effect.  In  other  days 
I  had  known  Turgenieff,  the  one  great  artist  in  Russian 
literature,  and  it  was  of  him  that  I  was  always  reminded 
when  with  Count  Witte.  They  had  the  same  ready 
laugh,  the  same  geniality,  the  same  naturalness,  the 
same  willingness  to  meet  all  comers  on  a  level.  You 
could  not  but  like  them  and  you  liked  both  of  them 
for  much  the  same  reasons. 

As  for  Count  Komura,  he  might  have  come  from 


398       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 

another  planet  ;  or  from  Lilliputia  so  diminutive  was 
he.  I  am  told  the  Japanese  think  us  overgrown  and 
that  there  is  a  physiological  advantage  in  being  under- 
sized ;  the  heart  pumping  the  blood  to  the  brain 
through  shorter  channels  and  therefore  with  less 
effort.  Grant  them  that,  but  still  they  are  not 
impressive  externally.  Count  Komura  did  not  look 
the  able  man  he  was.  An  intelligent  face,  but  of  parch- 
ment written  all  over  in  hieroglyphics,  a  body  en 
lame  de  couteau,  with  the  mechanical  movement  of 
a  marionette,  a  gravity  of  demeanour  so  complete 
that  you  thought  it  must  be  a  pose  ;  eyes  and  features 
wilfully  expressionless ;  well,  it  will  out,  he  looked  like 
a  mummy.  We  have  no  standard  in  common  with 
the  Japanese  to  measure  them  by,  and  for  aught  I 
know  what  seem  to  us  defects  may  seem  to  them  high 
merits,  and  they  might  be  able  to  admire  Count 
Komura's  appearance  as  they  rightly  did  his 
abilities. 

It  was  not  till  after  the  Conference  was  over  and 
done  with  that  I  came  to  know  the  history,  or  part  of 
the  history,  some  of  which  I  have  written.  Count 
Witte  said  to  me  toward  the  end  : 

"  If  we  go  back  on  the  same  ship  I  can  tell  you  much 
which  here  I  cannot  tell  you." 

I  did  go  with  him  on  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  der  Zzveite, 
which  the  Germans  thought  so  perfect  a  ship  that  they 
have  reproduced  her  to  the  last  particular  in  the 
Kronprinzessin  Cecilie  ;  or  meant  to,  as  one  of  her 
officers  told  me.  "  Tons  les  gouts  sont  respectables,''^ 
remarked  Voltaire,  to  whom  respect  was  not  a  per- 
manent attitude  of  mind.  The  most  vivid  picture  the 
Count  painted  of  their  sittings  was  at  its  most  critical 
moment  : 

"  There  was  a  deadlock.     Count  Komura  had  laid 


COUNT   WITTE  399 

on  the  table  in  writing  what  we  understood  to  be  his 
final  demands,  including  the  indemnity.  We  had 
made  our  final  answer.  We  could  not  accept  them. 
There  was  no  attempt  at  compromise  or  even  dis- 
cussion. We  had  found  out  before  the  futility  of 
discussion.  Nothing  was  said.  I  mean  it  literally. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken  on  either  side.  All  of  us  thought 
we  had  reached  an  impasse  and  that  the  conference 
must  break  up  and  the  war  go  on.  In  the  midst  of 
this  momentous  silence  I  took  out  my  cigarette-case 
and  lighted  a  cigarette  and  began  smoking.  Then 
Count  Komura  took  out  his  cigarette-case  and  lighted 
a  cigarette  and  began  smoking.  I  smoked  rapidly, 
and  when  my  cigarette  was  finished  I  lighted  another 
and  then  Komura  lighted  another.  The  silence 
remained  unbroken.  If  there  was  to  be  another  move 
it  must  come  from  the  Japanese,  since  they  had  made 
their  proposal  and  we  had  rejected  it,  and  we  had  no 
counter  proposal  to  offer.  Everything  turned  on  the 
indemnity,  and  we  had  made  it  clear  that  our  refusal 
to  pay  the  indemnity  was  not  open  to  revision.  It 
took  the  Japanese,  who  had  entered  upon  these 
negotiations,  not  as  negotiators,  but  as  conquerors, 
a  long  time  to  understand  that  on  this  point  our  minds 
were  immovable  and  had  been  immovable  from  the 
beginning. 

"  At  last,  very  slowly,  the  words  dropping  reluctantly 
from  his  lips,  Count  Komura  said  :  '  Suppose  we 
adjourn  till  Tuesday  ' — three  days  off.  I  agreed  to 
that.  Believing  the  end  was  upon  us,  I  had  looked 
at  my  watch  as  I  lighted  my  cigarette.  I  looked  at  it 
again  when  Komura  made  his  suggestion.  Just  eight 
minutes  had  elapsed.  The  Conference  had  been  within 
eight  minutes  of  utter  collapse.  We  all  understood 
that  Count  Komura's  motion  to  adjourn  till  Tuesday 


400       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

was  meant  to  give  time  to  communicate  with  Tokio 
and  St.  Petersburg." 

Count  Witte  paused  a  moment  in  his  story.  We  had 
been  tramping  up  and  down  the  deck  of  the  Kaiser 
Wilhelm.  We  stopped.  I  felt  sure  something  else 
was  coming,  and  it  came.     Said  the  Count  : 

"  That  was  the  moment  your  President  chose  to 
intervene ;  not,  as  before,  to  urge  my  Imperial 
Master  to  pay  $600,000,000  to  Japan,  but  to  tell 
Japan  she  must  withdraw  that  demand.  When  we 
next  met  Count  Komura  said,  '  I  withdraw  the  de- 
mand for  an  indemnity '  ;  and  I  said,  '  I  accept 
that.'  There  were  other  points,  as  you  know,  but  in 
those  two  sentences  peace  was  assured." 

"  Suppose  the  war  had  gone  on  ?  " 

"  We  had  considered  that  and,  as  you  know,  there 
was  a  strong  party  in  Russia  which  preferred  war. 
There  were  men  about  His  Majesty  the  Emperor 
who  pressed  it  upon  him.  I  was  not  one.  My  business 
was  to  make  peace  if  I  could.  But  I  was  never  one 
who  thought  the  military  power  of  Russia  exhausted, 
nor  that  of  Japan  invincible  in  the  long  run.  We 
reckoned  that  Japan  had  money  and  munitions  of 
war  to  last  till  next  spring.  She  would  have  had  a 
winter  campaign  before  her,  deserts  and  vast  spaces 
to  travel  as  we  retired  ;  she  growing  weaker  as  she 
advanced  and  we  stronger  as  we  retreated  upon  our 
base.  How  was  she  to  raise  money  to  go  on  ?  She 
had  pledged  everything  she  had,  except  her  women. 
Russia  had  pledged  nothing.  Her  credit  was  impaired, 
in  a  sense,  but  that  only  meant  that  we  should  have  to 
pay  a  higher  rate  for  a  new  loan.  The  price  of  issue 
would  have  been  low  but  we  should  have  got  the 
money.  I  did  not  want  to  re-enter  upon  the  struggle, 
but  I  would  infinitely  rather  have  done  that  than  pay 


COUNT   WITTE  401 

the  indemnity.     Who  could  say  with  what  result  ? 
C^est  a  la  guerre  comme  a  la  guerre.^'' 

I  sum  it  all  up  in  this  way  :  It  was  Count  Witte 
who,  with  that  "  fortunate  astuteness  "  which  is 
Machiavelli's  ideal  in  The  Prince^  brought  the  American 
people  back  to  their  ancient  friendship  for  Russia, 
and  with  them  the  President.  It  was  Count  Witte 
who  formed  that  body  of  American  opinion  without 
which  Mr.  Roosevelt,  as  I  have  elsewhere  related, 
never,  he  said,  entered  upon  a  great  policy.  In  so  far 
as  the  President,  having  failed  to  coerce  Russia, 
compelled  Japan  to  renounce  her  money  claim,  he 
was  indebted  to  Count  Witte  for  the  opportunity. 
I  go  further  back  than  that.  It  was  when  Count 
Witte  told  the  Czar  that  he  would  never  agree  to  pay 
an  indemnity,  and  would  go  to  Portsmouth  only  on 
that  condition,  that  the  Conference  became  possible. 
The  Japanese  thought  he  was  bluffing.  At  last,  almost 
too  late,  the  withdrawal  of  the  claim  which  Japan 
had  never  doubted  she  could  enforce,  was  seen  to 
be  the  sole  alternative  to  that  renewal  of  the  war 
which  Japan  had  never  thought  possible.  It  was 
therefore  first  of  all  Count  Witte,  and  perhaps 
secondly  the  Russian  Emperor,  who  were  the  real 
authors  of  the  Peace  of  Portsmouth.  President 
Roosevelt's  intervention  was  useful  and  was  made 
with  great  courage  and  judgment  at  the  right  moment. 
But  of  itself  it  would  not  have  availed. 

The  short  specimens  I  have  given  you  of  Count 
Witte's  talk  are  specimens  only.  Both  at  Portsmouth 
and  on  the  Atlantic  his  conversation  had  a  quality 
of  its  own.  If  it  suited  his  purpose  he  was  diffuse. 
He  could  discourse  at  length  and  say  nothing  not  less 
plausibly  than  the  diplomatist  who  had  spent  his 
official  life  in  that  exhilarating  practice.    He  could  be 


402       ANGLO-AMERICAN   MEMORIES 

concise  also  when  he  chose,  and  pack  as  much  into 
a  sentence  as  most  men.  At  a  critical  instant  of  the 
Conference  he  was  pressed  for  a  statement.  He 
answered  : 

"  The  Treaty  between  England  and  Japan  has  just 
been  revised  and  renewed  for  ten  years.  If  you  will 
get  me  a  copy  of  it  I  will  tell  you  everything  that  has 
passed  at  the  Conference." 

A  safe  offer,  but  it  silenced  his  questioner.  He 
talked  much  about  Russia  and  at  times  a  little  about 
himself.  I  had  suggested  that  he  was  going  back 
after  a  memorable  victory  and  that  his  reward  would 
be  memorable.     He  shook  his  head  : 

"  You  do  not  know  what  influences  there  are  against 
me,  nor  how  close  they  are  to  His  Imperial  Majesty. 
A  decoration,  perhaps,  but  I  do  not  expect  to  re-enter 
public  life  as  a  Minister.  Whatever  seems  good  to 
the  Emperor  will  be  good  for  me." 

This  rather  melancholy  forecast  proved  true.  A 
title,  a  place  in  the  Council  of  the  Empire,  an  order 
I  think,  and  that  was  all.  But  Russia  well  knew  how 
she  had  been  served  and  what  her  debt  was  to  Count 
Witte.  Court  favour  is,  at  best,  precarious  and  a 
Republican  may  think  it  of  doubtful  value.  But  the 
great  Plenipotentiary  of  Portsmouth,  hitherto  little 
known  out  of  his  own  country  and  out  of  the  world  of 
finance,  takes  a  permanent  place  in  history.  In  a  great 
crisis  he  had  shown  great  qualities.  Out  of  the  nettle 
danger  he  had  plucked  the  flower  safely.  A  novice  in 
diplomacy,  he  overmatched  a  veteran.  He  came  to 
Portsmouth  an  apprentice.  He  left  it  a  master.  In 
three  weeks  and  in  circumstances  which  would  have 
tested  the  craft  of  a  Metternich  or  the  genius  of 
Bismarck,  he  did  a  service  and  won  a  renown  which 
can   never  pass  from  the  memory  of  men.     What 


COUNT   WITTE  403 

matters  a  ribbon  more  or  less  ?  What  matters  is  that 
Count  Witte  is  still  in  the  plenitude  of  his  powers, 
and  when  Russia  again  needs  a  man  for  another  hour 
pregnant  with  fate,  his  unequalled  gifts  and  his  de- 
votion will  again  be  hers. 


INDEX 


Acheson,  Viscount,  marriage,  39 
Acton,  Lord,  on  his  daily  reading, 

257 
Alaska  boundary  question,  53,  54, 

351,  353 
Althorp  Library,  146 

Sold,  143,  seq. 
Althorp,  Lord,  Chancellor  of  Ex- 
chequer, 139 
American    after-dinner    oratory, 

254 
American     women     who     marry 

Englishmen,  37 
Arbitration    question,    109,     no, 

176,  186,  353,  372 
Arnold,  Matthew  ;  Oxus,  8 
Asquith,  H.  H. — 
"Ambassador,"  107 
Attitude  towards  Woman  Suf- 
frage, 117 
In  Switzerland,  109 
Parliament  Act,  8,  49,  50,  52 
Relations         with         Winston 

Churchill,  91,  95 
Surrender    to    Redmond    and 

Home  Rule,  114 
Tribute  to  Balfour,  46 
Astor,  Waldorf,  marriage,  269 
Astor,  William  Waldorf  — 
"Astor  Estate"  Offices,  264 
Buys  Cliveden,  265  ;  improves 

it,  267,  268,  269 
Buys  Hever  Castle,  270 — builds 
cottages  near,  270 


Astor,  William  Waldorf  [cont.)— 
Buys      Observer     and      other 

papers,  271 
Characteristics,   262,   264,  269, 

273,  274,  275 
Dinners  and  concerts,  265 
Experiences    in   England,    201 

seq. 
Gives  Cliveden  to  his  son,  269 
Lansdowne  House,  263 
Naturalized  British  subject,  261, 

262,  263 
Pall  Mall  Gazette  and  Maga- 
zine., 271,  272 
Astor,  Mrs.  W.  W.,  263,  264,  265 

B 

Balfour,  Arthur,  45  seq. 
As  Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland, 

55 

As  debater,  57,  59 

At  Whittingehame,  55 

Attitude  towards  Anglo-Ameri- 
can Disputes,  53,  54,  176 

Death  Duties,  65 

Parliament  Bill,  52 

Tariff  Reform,  48 

Woman  Suffrage,  117 

Characteristics,  19,  45,  50,  52, 
55,  56.  57 

Compared  with  Pascal,  51 

Criticism  of  his  policy,  50. 

Defence  of  Philosophic  Doubt, 
112 


405 


4o6      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 


Balfour,  Arthur  {cont.) — 
Ill-health,  46 
On     Winston      Churchill     in 

Sidney  Street,  91 
Proposed  Gully  as  Speaker,  126 
Rebellion  of  followers,  49 
Rejects     Winston    Churchill's 

application,  91,  99 
Resignation   of  leadership,  45 
seq.^  50,  60 
Bancroft,  U.S.  Minister  at  Berlin, 

261 
Bath,  Marquis  of,  Longleat  and 

Death  duties,  64 
Bathurst,    Countess,    control    of 

Morning  Post,  47 
Bering  fisheries  question,  53 
Bernhardt,  Sarah,  300,  314,  327 
seq. 
Characteristics,  333 
Compared  with    Desclde,  301, 

302,  303 
Hard  work,  338 
In  La  Tosca,  337 
In  Phhire,  336 
On  Descl^e's  acting,  306 
Receives  Gladstone,  336 
Sees  Irving  in  Bells,  326,  327 

seq. 
Supper  at  Lyceum,  333  seq. 
Bertie,  Sir  Francis,  199 
Biggar,   pioneer   in    obstruction, 

120 
Birmingham  audiences,  5,  6,  8 
Bismarck,  Prince,  75,  104,  246 

Ems  dispatch,  181 
Borthwick,  Oliver,  380 
Brand,     Sir      Henry     (Viscount 
Hampden)  Speaker,  iig  seq. 
Characteristics,  119 
On  rules  of  House,  121 
Bright,  John,  374 
As  debater,  57 
Dramatic  gift,  5 
On  just  war,  245 


Brington  Church,  burial-place  of 
Washingtons,  148 

British  Museum,  Tanagra  figu- 
rines, 231 

Brodrick,  St.  John,  81 

Brohan,  Madeleine,  300 

Browning,  as  man  of  society,  281 

Bryan,  criticism  of  English  rule 
in  India,  162 

Buller,  Sir  Redvers,  81 

Biilow,  Prince,  20,  2 1 

Burgon,  Dean,  160 

Burke,  murdered,  134 

Burne-Jones,SirEdward,pictures, 

57 
Butler,  General  Sir  William,  81 
Byron  quoted,  19 
Bystander.,  The,  157 


Cambon,  Jules,  179,  181 
Cambon,  Paul,  180 
Cambridge,  Duke  of,  Commander- 
in-Chief,  80 
Campbell-Bannerman,  Sir  Henry, 

107 
Canada,    relations    with    United 

States,  157,  160 
Cardwell,  Lord,  79 
Carey,  informer,  shot,  136 
Carlton  Club,  disaffection  at,  50 
Carlyle,  Thomas — 

On  big-nosed  men,  166 
On  Bismarck,  339 
Carlyon,  Mr.,  291 
Carnegie,  Andrew — 
As    captain    of   industry    and 

apostle  of  peace,  247  seq. 
As  landlord  and  neighbour,  259 
Deal    with    Pierpont    Morgan, 

241  seq. 
Dinner      to       Morley,      253  ; 

speeches,  254 
Friendship   with   Morley,   252, 
253  seq. 


Carnegie,  Andrew  {cont.) — 

Libraries  and  gifts,  249,  257 

Methods  in  business,  247,  248 

On  Wall  Street,  245 

Peace  Fund,  250 

Receives  Edward  VII,  258 

Relations  with  workpeople,  260 

Skibo,  256  ;  library,  257,  258 
Carnegie,  Mrs.,  254 
Carson,  Sir  Edward,  49 
Carter,  John  Ridgely,  39 

Declines  Argentine  Mission,200 
Cassini,  Count,  186 
Cavendish,  Lord  Edward,  29 
Cavendish,  Lord  Frederick,  mur- 
dered, 34,  134,  135 
Chamberlain,  Joseph,  i  seq. 

Achievements,  16  seq. 

As  debater,  9 

At  Birmingham,  4,  6,  8 

Boer  War  and,  17,  25 

Characteristics,  i,  2,  3,  4,  7,  10, 

14,  19 
Colonial  policy,  17 
Leader  on  Tariff  Reform,  48 
Municipal  politics,  15 
President  of  Board  of  Trade,  13 
Public  speaking,  5,  7 
Relations     with     Sir     Charles 

Dilke,  9  seq. 
Reply  to  Prince  Biilow,  20 
Tariff  Reform  policy,  18 
Chambord,  Comte  de,  282 
Champagne,  Perrier  Jouet,  1865, 

220 
Chatsworth,  33,  34 
Chauchard,  picture  buying,  236 
Cherbourg,  385 
Ch^ri,  Rose,  300 

Choate,   American   Ambassador, 
in  London,  189 
On  annexation  of  Philippines, 
214 
Churchill,  Lord  Randolph- 
Dispute  with  Prince  of  Wales, 

27 
On  Chamberlain,  16 


INDEX  407 

Churchill,  Lord  and  Lady  Ran- 
dolph ;  at  Great  Forsters,  87 
Churchill,  Winston,  87  seq.,  256 
Administration  of  Home  Office, 

95,  100 
Argument  with  Bourke  Cock- 
ran,  98 
As  First  Lord  of  Admiralty,  100 
At  Blenheim,  96 
Books,  89 
Censures  on,  91 
Characteristics,  90,  91,  92,  94 

seq. 
Escape  from  Boer  prison,  89 
Joins  Liberal  Party,  91 
Lectures  in  America,  89,  90 
LifeofLordRandolphChurchill, 

92 
Marriage,  97 
Story  of  boyhood,  88 
Clark,  Champ,  on  Canada,  374 
Clemenceau,  M.,  4 
Cleveland,  President,  3 

Interview  with  Pierpont  Mor- 
gan, 224 
Cliveden,  265,  266 
Cockran,  Bourke — 

Argument        with        Winston 
Churchill,  98 
Coquelin  as  actor,  330,  333 
Cornell,  156,  158,  161 
Criticism  in  France  and  in  Eng- 
land, 333 
Croizette,  position  in  Paris,  300 
Cromer,  Lord,  367 
Cuba,  343 
Currie,  Lord,  199 
Czar,  401  ;  gives  jewelled  sword 
to  General  Komaroff,  251 

D 

Dalhousie,  Lord,  143 
Danel  of  Lille,  238 
d'Aumale,  Due,  library,  236 
Davis,  Senator,  192,  194 


4o8       ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 


Day,  Judge,  192,  194 
Death  Duties,  62,  63 

Effect  of,  64 
Debate  in  House  of  Commons,  8, 

46 
Depew,  Senator,  379 
Derby,  Countess  of,  39 
Desclde,  Aimde,  her  art,  letters, 
and  Hfe,  296  seq. 

As  Princess e  Georges,  301,  302, 

307 

Characteristics,    300,  301,  302, 
305,  306,  307 

Compared   with    Sarah    Bern- 
hardt, 301,  302.  303 

Creates     Meilhac's    Froufrou, 
300,  302,  306 

Death,  304,  306,  307 

In  Paris,  299,  300,  306 

Letters  to  Dumas,  305 
,,         "I'Inconnude  Naples," 

304 
Lettres  a  Fan/an,  297,  306 
On  acting,  305 
Rehearsing    Visite    de    Noces, 

303 
Triumphs,  306 
Devonshire,  Duchess  of  (late),  37 
seq. 
Characteristics,  40,  42,  43,  44 
Daughters,  39 
Sketch  of  career,  38 
Devonshire     (8th),     Duke     of, 
22  seq. 
As  speaker,  24 
Attitude  towards  Death  Duties, 

33 
Characteristics,  22,  23,  25,  26, 

27,  30,  31.  32,  35,  36,  40,  41, 

139 
Intervenes  in  dispute  between 

Prince   of  Wales  and   Lord 

Randolph  Churchill,  27 
Interviews  with  Gladstone,  32 
Lismore,  34 


Devonshire,  Duke  of  {cont.) — 
Lord  President  of  Council,  27 
Minister  of  War,  85 
On  Boer  War,  17,  25 
Relations  with  his  father,  35 
Statue,  22,  33 
Devonshire  House,  29 
Dilke,  Sir  Charles — 

Relations  with  Chamberlain,  10 

seq. 
Relations  with  Gladstone,  1 1 
Under-Secretary    for    Foreign 
Affairs,  13 
Diplomacy,  American  and  Euro- 
pean methods,  198  seq. 
Methods  and  language,  206 
Principle  of  continuity  in,  200, 
201,  205 
Disraeli,  Benjamin  (Lord  Beacons- 
field)— 
Admiration    for     Duchess     of 

Manchester,  39 
Attitude  towards  debate,  8 
On  Biggar,  120 
On  Gladstone's  oratory,  124 
Quarrel   with  Goldwin  Smith, 

159 

D'Oyly  Carte,  292 

Dufferin,  Marquis  of,  199 

Dumas,  Alexandre,  fils — 

On  Desclde,  296,  297,  298,  299 
Use  made  of  Descltfe's  letters, 

305 
Visite  de  Noces,  rehearsal  story, 

303 
Duplan,  Paul,  297,  306 
Durand,    Sir    Mortimer,    British 

Ambassador  to  U.S.,  359 


E 
Eddy,  Prince  (Duke  of  Clarence), 

164 
Eden,  Lady,  portrait,  279,  284 
Education  Bill  (1902),  50 


INDEX 


409 


Edward  VII— 

Dispute  with  Lord   Randolph 

Churchill,  27 
Liking  for  Mr.  Gully,  126 
3rd  Batt.  Scots  Guards  and,  116 
Visits  Carnegie,  258 
Egypt,  Roosevelt's  advice  to  Eng- 
land on,  367 
Criticisms  on,  369 
Eighty  Club  dinner  to  Parnell,  140 
Elliot,  Life  of  Goscken,  1 54 
Emerson — 

On  taking  a  man  by  surprise,  57 
On  Valdarfer  Boccaccio,  147 
Empress  Frederick,  150 
England — 

Ambassadors,  selection  of,  199, 

200 
Attitude  towards  United  States 
during  war  with  Spain,  180, 
181,  182,  213,  347 
Civil  servants,  199 
Foreign  office  and  diplomacy, 
199,  205 
England  and  France,  beginning 
of  better  understanding,  336 
Erckmann-Chatrian,Z^/«z//'<?/<?- 

nats,  327 
Esher,  Lord,  on  Territorials,  1 1 5 
Expatriation,  views  on,  261 


Fitzmaurice,  Lord  Edmund,  380 

Forster,  Arnold,  79 

Forster,  W.   E.,   Education   Act 
(1870),  2 

Fowler,  Sir  Henry  (Lord  Wolver- 
hampton), 107 

France,  financial  solidarity,  216 

Franklin,    letter   to  J.  Quincy — 
peace  and  war,  245 

Free  Trade,  18 

Frye,  Senator,  192,  194 

Fuller,  Sir  Thomas,  Life  of  Cecil 
Rhodes,  quoted,  325 
2  D  2 


G 

Gambetta,  President   of  French 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  129 
Called  an  opportunist,  72 
Provisional  government  at  Bor- 
deaux, 215 
Weight  of  brain,  7 
Garrett,  Edmund,  story  of  Cecil 

Rhodes  and,  325 
Garrick,   Irving   compared  with, 

318,  326 
Garvin,  editor  of  Observer,  271  ; 
2indPallMallGazette,2T2,2Ji 
On  Lord  Goschen,  155 
George  V  of  Hanover,  38 
George,  Lloyd,  23 
Censures  on,  91 
Budget,  62,  98,  114  ;  effects  of, 

267,  273 
Object  of  Death  Duties,  etc,  267 
German  philosophy  and  science, 

112,  113 
Germany,    attitude    towards   ex- 
patriation, 261 
Gilbert,  Sir  William    Schwenck, 
289  seq. 
As  Justice  of  the  Peace,  290 
Association  with  Sullivan  and 

D'Oyly  Carte,  292 
Characteristics,  289,  290,   291, 

292,  293 
Eulogies  on  and  anecdotes,  289 
Influence  on  stage,  294,  295 
Tuition  of  actresses,  293 
Gilchrist,    Connie    (Countess    of 

Orkney),  portrait,  279 
Gilder,  Mr.,  254 
Gladstone,  W.  E.,  4,  73.  164 
Appreciation  of  Morley,  252 
As  debater,  57 
As  leader,  10,  12,  13 
Attitude  towards  debate,  8 
„  „      Gordon,  84  seq. 

„      Goschen,  155 
„       Navy,  141,  142 
„       Radicalism,  10 


ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 


410 

Gladstone,  W.  E.  (con/.) — 
Dramatic  gift,  5 
Foreign  policy,  74,  75 
Home  Rule  Bill  (1886),  14,  138, 

195 

—  Revolt  against,  155 

Interviews  with  Lord  Harting- 
ton,  32 

Liking  for  Whitelaw  Reid,  196 

Nominates  Arthur  Peel  as 
Speaker,  123 

Notion  of  peace,  251 

On  Sir  Edward  Grey,  102 

Proposed  Gully  for  Speaker- 
ship, 125 

Reply  to  Sir  Charles  Dilke, 
ir 

Seeing  Sarah  Bernhardt  in 
FAcdrg,  336 

Stories  of,  380 

Views  on  Cabinet-making,  11, 

75 

Glenesk,  Lord,  owner  of  Morning 
Post,  47 

Godley,  Sir  Arthur,  380 

Gordon  Relief  Expedition,  80,  84 

Gorst,  Sir  Eldon,  367 

Goschen,  Viscount  (the  late),  149 
seg. 
As  man  of  business,  149 
As  speaker  and  debater,  153 
Conversation,  150,  154 
Description  of  himself,  149 
Founds  Unionist  Party,  155 
Free  Trader,  152 
Led  revolt  against  Home  Rule, 

155 
Offices  held  and  declined,  154 
Personal  appearance,  152 
Theory  of  Foreign  Exchanges, 
152 
Gosford,  Countess  of,  39 
Grant,  General,  370 
Granville,  Lord,  77 
Gray,  Senator,  192,  194 


Greeley,2Horace,  189 
Greenwood,  Frederick,  272 
Grenville,  Stamp  Act,  8 
Grey,  Sir  Edward,  75,  102  seq. 
Characteristics,  105,  106,  11 1 
Fishing,  102 

Foreign  Minister,  107,  108 
Radicalism,  107,  108,  117 
Speeches  on   Arbitration    and 
Moroccan  Question,  102,  109, 
176 
Under-Secretary    for    Foreign 

Affairs,  103,  105 
With  Roosevelt  in  New  Forest, 
103 
Grey,  Lady,  character,  106 
Griscom,   Lloyd,   United    States 

Ambassador  to  Rome,  202 
Guibert,  M.  de,  298,  299 
Gully,  Viscount  Selby,  as  Speaker, 
125,  126 


H 

Hague  Tribunal,  no 
Haldane,  Viscount,  112  seq. 

"Ambassador,"  107,  114 

As  Socialist  Radical,  117 

As  War  Minister,  114 

Characteristics,    112,   114,  116, 
118 

Practice  as  barrister,  114 

Scheme  for  army,  79 

Speech  on  army  reorganization, 

113 
Translates  Schopenhauer,  113 
Halsbury  Club,  49 
Halsbury,  Lord,  attitude  towards 

Parliament  Bill,  49 
Halstead,  on  New  York  addresses, 

241 
Hamilton,  Duchess  of,  39 
Hampden,  John,  119 
Hanbury,  Lily,  293 


Harcourt,  Sir  William,  6i  seq. 

As  jurist,  67 

Attitude    towards    Navy,    141, 
142 

Characteristics,  62,  66 

Crimes  Act,  135 

Death  Duties,  33,  62,  63,  64 

Dispute  with   Lord  Rosebery, 
65 

Mai  wood,  66 

On  great  Americans,  148 

Relations  with  his  son,  6r 
Hardinge,  Sir  Charles,  199 
Harrison,  Frederic,  379 
Harrison,  President,  191 
Hartington,    Lord.     See   Devon- 
shire, Duke  of 
Haversham,  Lord  and  Lady,  153 
Hay,  American   Ambassador   in 
London,  189 

Efifect  of  his  diplomacy,  347 

On  value  of  continuity  in  di- 
plomacy, 201,  202,  204 

Secretary  of  State,  351,  352 
Hay  ward,  as  a  social  force,  281 
Heber,  Richard,  buying  libraries, 

237 

Henry  of  Prussia,    Prince,   mis- 
sion to  U.S.,  355 

Herbert,    Sir     Michael,    British 
Ambassador,  199,  354 

Heredity,  128 

Hertford,  Marquess  of,  139 

Heseltine,  lover  of  art,  293 

Hever  Castle,  270 

Hitt,   211  ;    on   way   of    passing 
bills,  209 

Holden,  Sir  Isaac,  63 

Holleben,  Baron,  182,  185,  186 

Homburg,  von  der  Hohe,  125 

Home  Rule  : 

Opinion  in  America  on,  195 
Wolseley's  judgment  of,  86 

Home    Rule     Bill     (first).       See 
under  Gladstone 


INDEX  411 

Houghton,  Lord,  309 

Speech  at  Irving's  supper,  310, 

311 
House  of  Commons  : 
Debate  in,  8 
Obstruction  in,  120 
Rules,  120,  121 
Standing  Orders,  122,  130 
House  of  Representatives,  Wash- 
ington, 122 
Hugo,  Victor,  on  receiving  Em- 
peror of  Brazil,  336 
Huxley,  Professor,  ig 
On  death,  44 
On  Germans  as  scientists,  113 

I 

Invective  in  debate,  83 
Ireland,  murders  in,  135,  136 
Irish  in  New  York,  90 
Irish  influence  in  U.S.,  decay  of, 

212 
Irish  Nationalists,  policy  of  ob- 
struction, 120 
Irving,  Sir  Henry,  308  seq. 
As  artist  and  man,  314  seq. 
„  Becket,  318,  320 
„   Hamlet,  326 

„    lago,  Lear,  and  Othello,  324 
„  Macbeth,  324,  326 
„   Manager  of  Lyceum,  313 
„   Mephistophelcs,  314  seq. 
„   Richelieu,  318,  320 
„  Wolsey,  317,  318,  320,  321 
Characteristics,   308,  310,  317, 

319,  321,  322,  323 
Compared  with    Garrick,    318, 

326 
Criticism  and  finance,  312,  313 
In  Bells,  326,  327  seq. 
Influence,  316 
Resemblance  to  Manning,  317, 

320 
Study  of  actors  and  audiences, 
322 


ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 


412 

Irving,  Sir  Henry  {co7it.) — 
Supper  on  hundredth  night  of 

Merchant  of  Venice,  309  seq. 
Supper   to    Sarah    Bernhardt, 

333  seq- 

J 
James,  Henry,  on  Irving  in  Bells, 

330 
Japanese,  attitude  towards  Ameri- 
cans and  Roosevelt,  366 
Jersey,  Lady,  y] 
Journalists  : 

At  Portsmouth,  361,  390,  391, 

392 
Relations  with  actors,  324 

K 

Khartoum,  siege  of,  85 

Kitchener,  Lord,  115 
In  Egypt,  370 

Knox,  head  of  American  Foreign 
Office,  201,  204 

Komaroff,  General,  251 

Komura,  Count,  365 
At     Portsmouth     Conference, 

390,  393,  395,  398  seq. 
Characteristics,  398 
Contrasted  with  Witte,  397 
Demands  war  indemnity,  363 


Langtry,  Mrs.,  278,  280 

Portraits,  278,  279 
Lansdowne,  Lord,  49 

War  Minister,  81 
Laurier,  Sir  Wilfrid,  351,  353 

Minister  of  Finance,  215 
Law,  Bonar,  as  leader,  45 
Lawley,  Frank,  68,  70 
Leighton,  Lord,  originates  Winter 
Exhibition   at    Royal   Acad- 
emy, 234 
Lespinasse,     Mile,     de,     letters, 
298,  299 


Lewis,  Sir  George,  94 
Lincoln,  President,  6 
Lodge,  Senator,  54 
Loeb,  as  Secretary  to  Roosevelt, 
347,  361,  362 

Collector  of  Port  of  New  York, 
361 
Londonderry,  Lady,  58 
Lonsdale,  Earl  of,  128 
Lowe,  R.,  on  Lord  Hartington,  31 
Lowther,  James,  Speaker,  127  seq. 

Compared  with  Gambetta,  129, 
208  ;  with  "  Tom  "  Reed,  208 

Qualities,  129,  130,  132 
Lowther  Lodge,  129 
Lowther,  Mrs.,  129 

As  hostess,  131,  132 
Lowther,    Hon.  William,    sketch 

of,  128 
Lucy,  Sir  Henry — 

"  Essence  of  Parliament,"  59 

On  Sir  Edward  Grey,  108 
Lyndhurst,  Lord,  on  Brougham, 

M 
Macaulay,  Lord — 
On  Grenville,  8 
On  Orientals'  homage,  221 
Machiavelli,    Prince,   "  fortunate 

astuteness,''  401 
McCormick,   U.S.     Ambassador 

to  France,  202,  203 
McKenna,  R.,  leaves  Admiralty, 

100 
McKim,  Miller,  237 
McKinley,  President,  205,  352 
Agrees  to  acquisition  of  Philip- 
pines, 188,  191,  194 
Appoints  Peace  Commissioners, 
192 
Manchester,  (7th)  Duke  of,  38 
Manning,Cardinal,  compared  with 

Irving,  317,  320 
Marlborough,  (ist)  Duke  of,  139 
Marlborough,  (7th)  Duke  of,  94 


INDEX 


413 


Marlborough  House,  garden  party, 

164 
Meyer,   U.S.  Ambassador  to  St. 
Petersburg,  202 
Interviews  with  Czar,  364 
Midleton,  Lord,  79,  81 
Millais,  Sir  John — 

Portrait  of  Gladstone,  140 
Portrait  of  Cardinal  Newman, 
320 
Miller,  Joaquin,  poem    for   Car- 
negie's birthday,  258,  259 
Mills,  D.  O.,  190 
Milner,  Lord,  161 
Minto,  Lord  and  Lady,  in  Ottawa, 

89 
Monroe  Doctrine,  no,  204 
Morawetz,  Victor,  243,  244 
Morgan,  Junius  S.,  215  seq. 
Characteristics,  219 
Death,  220 

Dover  House,  217  seq. 
Laurier  loan,  215,  223 
Morgan,  Pierpont,  221  seq. 
Art  gifts  and  loans,  234 
As  collector,  230,  231,  232,  236 
Buying  pictures,  235 
Collections,  236 
Deal  with  Carnegie,  242  seq. 
Encounter      with       President 

Roosevelt,  240 
Financial  anecdote  of,  221 
Financial   methods,    226,    227, 

228 
Gosford  Library,  237;  catalogue, 

238 
Interview  with  President  Cleve- 
land, 224 
Library,  236,  237 
Likes  power,  239,  240 
Meets  German  Emperor,  239 
Services  to  his  country,  240 
Morley,  Lord,  73 
Address  at  Pittsburg,  253 
Compared  with  Goldwin  Smith, 

161 
Edited  Pall  Mall  Gazette.,  272 


Morley,  Lord  {cont.) — 

Friendship  with  Carnegie,  252, 

■2S2,seq. 
Influence  with  Gladstone,  252 
Life  of  Gladstone,  1 1 

—  On  Gordon   Relief  Expedi- 

tion, 85 

—  On  Lord  Spencer,  137 

On  Gladstone's  notion  of  peace, 

251 
Reviews  Roosevelt's  Cromwell, 

379 
Morning  Post,  attitude  towards 

Balfour,  47  seq. 
Moroccan  question,  102 
Morris,  Sir  Henry,  167 
Morton,  Governor,  213 
Murders  in  Ireland,  135,  136 

N 
Napoleon  on  ideologues,  3 
National  Liberal  Federation,  16 
Neilson,  Julia,  293,  294 
Neilson-Terry,  Miss,  as  Viola,  294 
New  Radicalism,  growth  of,  10, 

13 
New  York  directories,  241 
New     York,     parent     of    "  sky- 
scrapers,"  190 
Newman,  Cardinal,  320 
On  Pope's  infallibility,  358 

O 

Obser^ier,  bought  by  Astor,  271 

Obstruction    in    House  of  Com- 
mons, 120 

O'Donnell  shoots  Carey,  136 

Olney,  Mr.,  53,  176,  244 

First  Arbitration  Treaty  be- 
tween England  and  United 
States,  177,  178 

Osborne,  Bernal,  282 

Ottawa,  351 

Government  House  in,  89 

Outlook,    attitude  towards    Taft, 
373 

Oyster  Bay,  341,  342,  361,  362      - 


414      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 


Pall    Mall    Gazette^   owned    by 

Astor, — editors,  272 
Palmerston,  Lady,  37 
Palmerston,  Viscount,  19 

Conception  of  British  Fleet,  104 
Use  of  social  influence,  56 
Parliament  Bill,  8,  49,  50,  52,  118 
Paris  theatres,  their  influence,  336 
Parnell,  C.  S.— 

Attitude  towards  Phoenix  Park 
Murders  and  Crimes  Act,  135 
Policy  of  Obstruction,  120 
Parry,     Serjeant,     Counsel      for 

Whistler,  277 
Pascal — 
Pens^es,  50 

Provincial  Letters^  50 
Pauncefote,  Lord — 
As  Anglo-American  Ambassa- 
dor, 1 70  seq. 
Attitude  towards  Senators,  178 
Characteristics,   172,   173,  174, 

183 
Conspiracy   against,    180  seq.^ 

348 
Death  and  funeral,  186,  187 
Z>^j^«  of  Diplomatic  Corps,  186 
First   Arbitration  Treaty   with 

United  States,  177,  178 
Influence  with  Roosevelt,  347 
Permanent      Foreign     Under- 
Secretary,  171,  199 
Peel,  Arthur  (Viscount) — 
As  Speaker,  123  seq. 
Oratory,  124,  125 
Peel,  George,  Future  of  England^ 

quoted,  loi 
Peel,  Sir  Robert  (first),  124 
Pembroke,   Earl  of,  Wilton  and 

Death  Duties,  64 
Penjdeh  incident,  251 
Philippine     Isles      acquired     by 
United    States,  188,  191  seq.., 

Phcenix  Park  murders,  134,  135 
Pitt  (younger)  portrait,  4 


Pittsburg,  260 

Morley's  address  at,  253 
Piatt,  Mr.,  379 

Portsmouth,  Conference  between 

Russia  and  Japan  at,  360  seq. 

Portsmouth,      Peace      of,      real 

authors,  401 
Press — 
American,   attitude  on   Ports- 
mouth Conference,  390,  394 
Methods  of  English  and  Ameri- 
can, 368 
Use  of,  348 
Prince  of  Wales.  See  Edward  VII 
Psychical  Society,  51 
Punch — 

Caricatures  of  Palmerston  and 

Lord  John  Russell,  6 
"  Essence      of      Parliament," 

Prince  Arthur,  59 
On  Tree's  stage  properties,  320 


Queen  Mary,  164,  165 

Queen  Victoria,  164 

Influence  and  authority,  73 
On  Lord  Rosebery  as  Foreign 
Minister,  74,  78 

R 
Rachel  (Elizabeth  Rachel  Fdlix), 

327 
As  actress,  300,  301 
Radnor,  Earl  of,    Longford  and 

Death  Duties,  64 
Redford,  reader  to  Lord  Chamber- 
lain, 295 
Redmond,  J.  E.,  95 
Reed,     Thomas     B.,     American 
Speaker,  208  seq. 
Attitude  towards  annexation  of 

Philippines,  214 
Characteristics,  211,  212 
Compared  with  James  Lowther, 

208 
On  Irish  influence  in  America, 
212 


INDEX 


415 


Reid,  Mrs.,  189,  190,  197 
Reid,  Whitelaw,  American   Am- 
bassador in  London,  iS8  seq., 
201 
Advocacy    of  Anglo-American 

friendship,  196 
As  editor  of  Tribune,  189 
Attitude  towards  annexation  of 

Philippines,  192,  193,  194 
Career,  188,  189,  191 
Love  of  books  and  of  letters,  197 
Marriage,  190 
Questions  treated,  196 
Speeches,  197 
Rhodes,  Cecil,  17 

Story  of  Edmund  Garrett  and, 
325 
Roberts,  Lord,  in  South  Africa,  80 
Roosevelt,    Alice,    (Mrs.    Long, 
worth),  343 
At  King  Edward's  funeral,  yj  i 
Roosevelt,  Mrs.,  341,  343,  351 
Roosevelt,   Theodore,    179,    188 
339  ^eq. 
Alienated  business  world,  349 
Anecdotes  of,  342,  345,  349,  351 

376,  379,  380 
As    Governor    of    New    York 

State,  343  seq. 
As  President  of  New  York  City 

Police  Board,  340  seq. 
As  President  of  U.S.,  346  seq. 
—  Relation  to  Foreign  Affairs, 

352  seq. 
At  King  Edward's  funeral,  371 
Attitude    towards    Arbitration 
Treaties,  176, 
372 
»  ,.     England,  347, 

373,  374 
„  „      Law,  381,382 

„  ,,      Pauncefote, 

185,  186,  348 
„      Taft,  373 
lioer  partialities,  347,  373,  374 
Cables  to  St.  Petersburg,  364  ; 
to  Tokio,  365 


Roosevelt,  Theodore  {cont) — 
Characteristics,  340,  341,  342, 
346,  348,  349,  356,  358,  370, 
372,  376 
Compared  with  Kaiser,  357 
Confidence  in  Hay,  352 
Coquetries  with  O'Connor,  374 
Cro>nwell,  379 
Dealings    with    Ambassadors, 

358,  359 
Encounter  with  Pierpont  Mor- 
gan, 240 
Hunting  in  Africa,  371,  375 
Intervention  between  England 
and  Egypt, 
366  seq. 
,  „  Russia    and 

Japan,  360 
seq.,      396, 
400,  401 
Military  excursion  in  Cuba,  343 
On  good  and  bad  trusts,  246 
Politics,  352 
Reception   of    Prince    Henry, 

355 
Relations    with    German    Em- 
peror, 355 
Relations  with  Senate,  377 
Speech  on  Supreme  Court,  381 
"  Teddy,"  87 

With  Sir  Edward  Grey  in  New 
Forest,  103 
Root,  Mr.  244 
Acted    on     Hay's    diplomatic 
policy,  202,  204 
Rosebery,  Lord,  19,  68  seq. 
Advice  on  Tariff  Reform,  72 
"  Ambassadors,"  107 
As    Foreign  Minister,  74  seq., 

104,  186 
As  orator  and  debater,  59 
Attitude  towards  Gladstone,  74 
Characteristics,  70,  71,  72,  78 
Conception  of  British  fleet,  104 
Diplomatic  equipment,  77 
Dispute  with  Sir  William  Har- 
court,  65,  71 


4i6      ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 


Rosebery,  Lord  {cont.) — 

Misunderstood,  71 

On  heredity,  128 

Prime  Minister,  73 

Speech  to  Imperial  Press  Con- 
ference, 205 

Use  of  social  influence,  56 
Rosecrans,  General,  189 
Rothschild,  Baron  Alphonse  de, 
collections,  231 

Story  of,  232 
Rothschild,  Baron  Meyer  de,  69 

Mentmore,  70 
Rothschild,      Lord,     on     Death 

Duties,  63 
Ruskin,  John  : 

Criticism  of  Whistler,  277 

On  art,  1 5 1 
Russell  of  Killovven,  Lord,  330 

On  Sir  George  Lewis,  94 
Rylands,     Mrs.,     buys     Althorp 
Library,  144 


St.  Albans,  Duchess  of,  282 
Salisbury,  Marquis  of,  27, 49, 53,  54 
Foreign  policy,  75 
On  British  fleet,  104 
On  qualities  essential  to  a  dip- 
lomatist, 76 
Relations  with  United  States, 
171 

Retirement,  75 

Use  of  social  influence,  56 
Sanderson,  Lord,  181 
Sardou,  La  Tosca^  ^37 
Sargent,  on  his  portraits,  97 
Saunderson,      Colonel,      reasons 

against  Home  Rule,  34 
Sauvageot,  art  collection,  236 
Schopenhauer,  1 13 
Scots  Guards,  3rd  Battalion,  and 

King  Edward,  116 
Sedan  battle,  104 
Selborne,  Lord,  49 
Shaw,  on    Morgan's   art   collec- 
tions, 234 


Smith,     Goldwin,     Scholar    and 
Apostle,  156  segr. 
As  journalist,  157,  159 
Compared  with  Lord   Morley, 

161 
Letters,  156 
Oxford  career,  160 
Quarrel  with  Disraeli,  159 
Reminiscences,  25 
Style,  159 
Theory  about  Canada,  157,  160, 

162 
United  States :  An  Outline  of 
Political  History,  158 
South  African  War,  17,  25 
Speakers  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, 1 19  seq. 
House,  132 
Salary,  133 
Spencer,  Earl  (ist),  139 
Spencer,  Earl  (5th),  73,  92,  134^^^. 
As  First  Lord,  141  seq. 
As  Irish  Viceroy,  134  seq. 
Characteristics,    137,   139,    141, 

144,  14s,  147,  148 

On  Gladstone's  influence,  141 

Sells  Althorp  Library,  143^1?^. 

Supports  Home  Rule,  138 

Spencer,  Lady,  137,  139,  145,  146 

Spencer,  Robert  (6th  Earl),  134, 

1355  140 
Spencer,  Mrs.  Robert,  140 
Spencer  House,  143 
Standard  Oil  and  Tobacco  Trust, 

381 
Stead,  edited  Pall  Mall  Gazette, 

272 
Steel  Corporation,  248,  249 
Stetson,  Lynde,  243,  244 
Stoker,  Bram,  321 
Story,  Waldo  : 
Bas-reliefs,  105 
Statues  at  Cliveden,  268 
Sullivan,  Sir  Arthur,  292 
Sunderland  (3rd)  Earl  of,  139 
Sutherland,  Duke  of,  on  Carnegie 
as  neighbour,  259 


INDEX 


417 


Taft,  President,  188,  355 

Accepts    White's    resignation, 

203,  204 
Arbitration  Treaties,  no,  176, 

353,  372 
Fame,  373 

Proposes    an    Arbitral   Court, 
no 
Taine,  on  root  of  philosophy,  58 
Takahira,  Baron,  365,  393  seq. 
Talleyrand,  on   everybody's   wit, 

231 
Tariff  Reform,  18,  48 
Taylor,  General,  President  Zach- 

ary,  98 
Teck,  Duke  of,  164 
Teck,  Duke  and  Duchess  of  (late), 

163 
Teck,  Prince  Francis  of,  163  seq. 
As    Chairman     of    Middlesex 

Hospital,  167 
As  soldier,  166 
Automobile  Club,  167,  168 
Characteristics,  166,  168 
Death,  165,  169 
Teck,    Princess    Mary    of.      See 

Queen  Mary 
Tennant,  Sir  Charles,  140 
Tennant,  Sir  Edward,  140 
Territorials,  1 15 
Trade  Union  Bill,  50 
Tree,  Sir  Herbert,  318,  319 
As  Wolsey,  319,  321 
Henry  the  Eighth,  317 
Trevelyan,     Sir     George,    Chief 

Secretary  for   Ireland,   136 
Tribune,  r/r<?  (New  York),  13, 120 
Appreciation     of     Sir     Julian 

Pauncefote,    175 
Policy  on  Home  Rule,  195,  196 
Whitelaw  Reid  as  editor,  189 
Thomas,  General,  i8g 
Turgenieff,  compared  with  Witte, 

397 
Turner.  Mr.,  54 


U 

United  States- 
No  system  of  diplomacy,  204, 

206 
Officers  of  State  badly  paid,  2 1 1 
Penurious  policy  towards  Am- 
bassadors, 189,  200 
Senate  and    House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, 210 
Senate,  attitude  towards  arbi- 
tration, 177,  35 1.  353. 
354,  372 
„         President,  2n 
Supreme  Court,  381 
War  with  Spain,  179 
—  Peace  Commissioners,   191 
seq. 

V 

Vanderbilt,   W.    H.,   on    making 

money,  239 
Venezuela  question,  53,  55,  76,  176 

W 

Waddington,  M.,  dinner  of  fare- 
well to,  125 

Wallace,  Sir  Donald  Mackenzie, 
361,  362 

Wallace,  Sir  Richard,  collections, 

235,  236 
Ward,  Mrs.  Humphry,  letters  on 

woman  suffrage,  109 
Washington — 
Climate,  360 

Mourning    for    Lord    Paunce- 
fote, 187 
"The  Embassy,"  186 
Washington,  Booker,  379 
Washington,    Lawrence,    burial- 
place,  148 
Webster,  Daniel,  on  religion  and 

politics,  285 
Westminster,  Duke  of  (late)— 
Liking  for  Queen  Anne  archi- 
tecture, 268 
Sells  Cliveden,  265 
Stories  of,  140 


4i: 


ANGLO-AMERICAN    MEMORIES 


Whistler,  James  McNeill,  276  seq. 
Action  against  Ruskin,  277 
Books  and  letters,  276 
Breakfasts,  280 
Characteristics,  281,  282,  283, 

284,  286,  288 
Pencil  drawing,  276 
Portraits,  279,  287 
Quarrel  with  Royal  Academy, 

286 
Reply   to  invitation   from   Art 

Society,  287 
Story  of,  282  ;   Disraeli's  por- 
trait, 284 
White,  Henry,  U.S.  Ambassador 

to  France,  39,  203 
Mission  to  S.  America,  203 
William,  Emperor  of  Germany — 
As  ruler,  357 

Meets  Pierpont  Morgan,  239 
Policy   towards    England   and 

United  States,  179,  182 
Relations  with  Roosevelt,  355 
Witte,  Count,  361 

Account  of  Conference,  398  seq. 
At  Portsmouth  Conference,  363, 

364,  366,  383,  390  seq.,  401 
Audience  of  President,  362 
Characteristics,    385,  386,  387, 

389,  397,  401,  402 


Witte,  Count  {cont.) — 

Contrasted  with  Komura,  397 

Conversation,  401 

Relations  with  journalists,  391, 

392 
Sketch  of  career,  387 
Wolff,  Sir  Henry  Drummond,  199 
Wolseley,     Field-Marshal     Vis- 
count, 79  seq. 
Characteristics,  83,  84 
Commands  Gordon  Relief  Ex- 
pedition, 86 
Conversation  and  invective,  83 
On  Home  Rule,  86 
Passed  over  in  Boer  War,  81 
Photograph,  82 
Short  service,  80 
Sketch  of  career,  80 
Wolseley,  Lady,  81 
Woman    Suffrage   question,   108, 

117 
Wyndham,  George,  49 


Young,  John   Russell,  managing 
editor  of  Tribune.,  120 


Zobeir,  85 


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